THE-MAvSTER 
OF-THE^HILL, 

A  Biography  of 

JOHN-MEIG^ 


THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 


JOHN  MEIGS 


THE 

MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

A  BIOGRAPHY  OF  JOHN  MEIGS 


BY 

WALTER  RUSSELL  BOWIE 


WITH  ILLUSTRATIONS 


NEW   YORK 

DODD,  MEAD  AND  COMPANY 
1917 


COPYRIGHT,  1917, 
By  DODD,  MEAD  AND  COMPANY,  INC. 


DEDICATION 

"ONE  WHO  NEVES  TURNED  His  BACK  BUT  MARCHED  BREAST 

FORWARD, 

NEVER  DOUBTED  CLOUDS  WOULD  BREAK, 
NEVER   DREAMED,   THOUGH   RIGHT   WERE  WORSTED,   WRONG 

WOULD  TRIUMPH, 

HELD  WE  FALL  TO  RISE,  ARE  BAFFLED  TO  FIGHT  BETTER, 
SLEEP  TO  WAKE." 


PREFACE 

AS  that  noble  biography  of  Charles  Kings- 
y\  ley  was  written  by  his  wife,  whose 
intimate  understanding  made  her  the 
one  supremely  able  to  reveal  Charles  Kings- 
ley's  spirit,  so  it  would  have  been  the  ideal 
thing  that  this  biography  of  John  Meigs 
should  have  been  written  by  her  whose  life 
was  most  closely  linked  to  his.  For  a  time, 
indeed,  Mrs.  Meigs  did  intend  to  write  this 
book,  but  various  difficulties  compelled  her  to 
postpone  the  undertaking.  Then,  through  her 
gracious  willingness,  the  responsibility  came 
to  me;  and  as  a  work  of  love  and  noble  privi- 
lege I  received  it.  As  a  boy,  first,  in  the 
school,  I  knew  the  Master  of  the  Hill,  and 
afterwards  as  a  teacher  I  worked  under  him 
for  a  little  while.  To  this  attempt  to  record 
his  life  I  bring,  therefore,  some  knowledge 
and  much  love. 

The  material  which  the  following  pages 
embody  has  come  from  many  sources. 
Through  the  efforts  of  Mrs.  Meigs  herself 
was  most  of  it  gathered.  Three  years  ago 
she  sent  letters  to  a  great  number  of  the 
graduates  of  The  Hill  School,  and  to  other 

vii 


viii  PREFACE 

friends  of  John  Meigs,  asking  that  they 
should  allow  her  to  copy  any  letters  from 
him  which  they  might  have  received  and 
preserved,  and  also  that  they  should  write 
down  their  recollections  of  any  special  inci- 
dents which  they  remembered  as  character- 
istic of  him.  The  responses  which  came  to 
this  request  have  been  in  my  hands.  Also 
Mrs.  Meigs  read  through  her  own  letters  from 
her  husband,  and  copied  a  number  of  para- 
graphs which  she  was  willing  should  be  used 
at  my  discretion.  From  her,  too,  has  come 
information  concerning  facts  in  John  Meigs' 
life  which  otherwise  could  not  have  been 
known.  But  when  this  is  said,  there  should 
be  linked  with  it  another  statement.  Upon 
the  present  writer,  directly  and  particularly, 
rests  the  responsibility  for  the  inclusion  in 
this  book  of  certain  references  to  Mrs.  Meigs 
herself,  which  she  for  her  own  part  would 
have  avoided.  It  is  only  because  I  have  per- 
suaded her  to  recognize  that  they  are  linked 
inextricably  with  the  attempt  to  make  com- 
plete the  picture  of  John  Meigs'  life  and  work 
that  she  has  suffered  to  be  printed  here  those 
even  now  too  brief  suggestions  of  her  influ- 
ence at  The  Hill. 

Most  of  the  facts  concerning  John  Meigs' 
earlier  ancestors  are  drawn  from  "  The  Meigs 
Family  in  America,"  by  Henry  B.  Meigs,  of 


PREFACE  ix 

Baltimore,  published  in  1902.  From  two  dear 
friends,  Mrs.  Rossiter  W.  Raymond  and  Mrs. 
Thomas  M.  Drown ;  from  Mr.  William  S.  Wells 
and  Mr.  Louis  Richards,  students  at  The  Hill 
under  Dr.  Matthew  Meigs;  and  through  Pro- 
fessor W.  T.  Owen,  of  Lafayette,  has  come  the 
larger  part  of  such  recollections  of  John  Meigs' 
own  younger  days  as  are  preserved.  Mr. 
George  Q.  Sheppard,  Mr.  Alfred  G.  Rolfe, 
Mr.  Arthur  Judson  and  Mr.  Frank  W.  Pine, 
from  among  the  masters  of  The  Hill,  have 
contributed  reminiscences  of  exceptional  im- 
portance. Out  of  the  many  responses  which 
came  to  Mrs.  Meigs'  request  to  the  "  old 
boys  "  and  other  friends  that  they  write  what 
they  remembered  best  about  him,  much  that 
is  illuminating  has  been  gathered.  As  a  rule, 
it  has  not  seemed  fitting  to  give  the  names 
of  those  from  whom  these  personal  recollec- 
tions came;  but  to  them  all,  both  those  who 
will  recognize  in  the  pages  that  follow  quota- 
tions from  letters  they  have  written,  and  to 
those  also  whose  words,  though  not  printed, 
have  none  the  less  helped  to  shape  the  present 
author's  conclusions,  this  tribute  of  indebted- 
ness is  here  set  down. 

Pre-eminently  also  is  gratitude  due  to  Dr. 
Robert  E.  Speer  for  inestimable  counsel  and 
help  in  the  publication  of  this  book. 

Certain  letters  of  Dr.  Meigs  to  his  sister, 


x  PREFACE 

Miss  Elizabeth  W.  Meigs,  and  to  his  daugh- 
ters, have  been  available,  as  well  as  carbon 
copies  of  a  part  of  his  correspondence  to  per- 
sons in  general  concerning  the  affairs  of  the 
school.  Two  addresses  made  by  Dr.  Meigs, 
in  which  he  set  forth  his  conception  of 
what  a  school  should  be,  have  been  of  im- 
mense value  as  giving  the  key  to  his  plans 
and  ideals.  In  these,  under  the  form  of  a 
general  discussion,  he  has  often  revealed  his 
own  soul.  But,  with  the  exception  of  these, 
and  some  memoranda  of  talks  to  the  boys, 
there  is  a  scarcity  of  the  kind  of  material 
which  one  craves  most  in  the  assembling  of 
a  book  like  this.  John  Meigs  kept  no  diary. 
The  deep  and  intense  emotion,  and  the  power- 
ful thought  which  made  him  great,  expressed 
themselves  more  characteristically  in  action 
than  in  any  deliberate  summing  up  in  written 
word.  He  was  conspicuously  free  from  the 
kind  of  self-regard  which  would  have  made 
him  think  that  what  he  was  dreaming  and 
desiring  would  some  day  be  of  interest  to 
people  at  large — save  as  embodied  silently  in 
the  work  which  he  did  from  day  to  day;  and 
so  he  seldom  spread  out  for  inspection  his 
thoughts  and  feelings  concerning  the  duties 
and  hopes  which  pertained  individually  to 
himself.  It  was  not  that  he  was  reserved, 
for,  on  the  contrary,  he  was  impetuous  and 


PREFACE  xi 

lavish  to  his  friends  of  the  best  he  felt  he  had. 
Rather,  the  explanation  lies  in  his  singular 
humility — that  humility  which  can  belong 
sometimes  to  those  who  are  confident  and 
masterful  when  they  lay  their  hands  to  a  work 
so  great  as  to  clothe  their  spirit  with  the 
authority  of  a  high  commission,  but  who,  in 
their  estimate  of  the  interest  which  they 
themselves  may  have  for  others,  are  incredu- 
lous with  almost  a  child's  simplicity  of  heart. 
So  the  fact  stands  that  he  who  could  best 
have  given  the  materials  for  this  book  has 
given  them,  so  far  as  written  words  are  con- 
cerned, only  in  fragments  here  and  there. 
Happily  in  his  letters  to  those  whom  he  loved 
best,  where  these  may  be  quoted,  he  has  given 
us  flashing  insights  into  his  deepest  self;  but 
chiefly  he  expressed  himself  in  the  school 
which  he  builded  and  in  the  lives  which  he 
molded.  From  what  he  did,  therefore,  and 
from  what  others  have  found  him  to  be,  rather 
than  from  what  he  himself  has  said,  must  a 
large  part  of  this  book  be  made. 


CONTENTS 

CHAPTER  PAOE 

I    SCHOOLMASTER  AND  MAN  .     .       .       .       •  i 

II    JOHN   MEIGS'  ANCESTRY,   AND   His  ANTE- 
CEDENTS AT  THE  HILL  .       .       .       .       .  10 

III  BOYHOOD  AND  YOUTH 30 

IV  THE  BEGINNING  OF  THE  VENTURE        .       .  52 
V    LIGHTS  AND  SHADOWS 104 

VI    IDEALS  FOR  THE  SCHOOL 137 

VII    THE  MAKING  OF  MEN 201 

VIII    THE  LIFE  WITHIN 249 

IX    FINAL  ACHIEVEMENTS  AND  A  FINISHED  LIFE  298 

X    VICTORY 362 

THE  MASTER .  369 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

John  Meigs      .     ,.        .        .        .        .        .       Frontispiece 


FACING 
PAGE 


John  Meigs,  aged  eighteen 36 

The  Headmaster's  House  at  The  Hill.        ...       94 

Professor  John  Meigs,  at  the  age  of  thirty-four  .        .150 
The  Upper  School  .........     220 

The  Chapel 350 


THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 


THE  MASTER  OF  THE   HILL 

CHAPTER  I 

SCHOOLMASTER  AND  MAN 

The  Two  Aspects  of  John  Meigs  to  Be  Considered ;  His  Con- 
structive Achievement  and  His  Personal  Character — The  Func- 
tion of  the  Great  Schools  in  the  Life  of  the  Nation— Shaping 
Ideals  for  Others— The  Arena  of  the  Man's  Own  Heart. 

THIS  is  the  story  of  one  who  lived  nobly 
and  wrought  well.  It  is  written  not 
alone,  nor  even  chiefly,  in  order  that 
the  boys  who  knew  John  Meigs  at  The  Hill 
School,  and  others  who  were  his  friends,  may 
have  this  enlargement  of  their  own  memo- 
ries, but  rather  because  his  life  was  such  that 
the  story  of  it  ought  to  go  out  with  its  kin- 
dling message  to  all  those  everywhere  who 
rejoice  in  idealism  and  gallantry  and 
strength. 

Two  separable  threads  of  interest  are  inter- 
woven in  this  record  of  John  Meigs'  life.  The 
first  and  more  obvious  interest  has  to  do  with 
the  visible  work  he  accomplished.  "  Si  mon- 
umentum  requiris,  circumspice,"  one  might 
say  of  John  Meigs,  as  one  stands  in  the  quad- 


2          THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

rangles  of  The  Hill  School,  as  truly  as  men 
say  it  of  Sir  Christopher  Wren,  when  they 
stand  under  the  dome  of  St.  Paul's.  He  took 
a  small  and  ill-equipped  institution,  the  mere 
framework  of  a  school,  with  two  teachers  and 
twenty  boys.  He  built  upon  that  foundation 
a  great  plant,  unsurpassed  in  America  for 
completeness  and  efficiency.  At  his  death 
there  were  forty  masters  and  three  hundred 
and  seventy-five  boys,  working  under  an  or- 
ganization so  clear  and  firm  that,  even  when 
the  school  was  left  without  a  leader,  its  work 
moved  on  with  no  break  and  no  uncertainty. 
From  an  obscure  venture  he  lifted  The  Hill 
School  in  his  lifetime  into  the  rank  of  the 
great  preparatory  schools  of  America. 

What  this  means  will  grow  more  impres- 
sively evident  as  time  goes  on.  We  are  only 
beginning  to  understand  the  power  which 
the  influential  schools  of  the  United  States 
will  exercise  upon  the  coming  thought  and 
will  of  the  nation — only  beginning  to  invest 
the  schools  here  with  that  dignity  of  asso- 
ciation which  belongs  to  the  schools  of  an 
older  world.  To  many  persons  in  America 
the  names  of  the  schools  in  England  are 
doubtless  more  familiar  than  the  names  of 
those  in  our  own  land.  Eton,  Harrow, 
Winchester,  Rugby,  Uppingham — thousands 
Joiow  these  who  have  never  seen  their  towers. 


SCHOOLMASTER  AND  MAN  3 

They  have  entered  into  the  stories,  the  his- 
tory— one  might  almost  say  the  legends — of 
the  English  race,  on  whichsoever  side  of  the 
Atlantic  it  may  be.  The  glamour  and  ro- 
mance of  many  generations  clothes  them 
with  an  imperishable  garment,  the  mellowing 
touch  of  the  vanished  centuries  is  upon  their 
walls,  and  the  aroma  of  old  hopes  and  dreams 
and  desirings  is  sweet  within  their  gardens 
and  their  cloistered  walks.  The  great  per- 
sonalities who  have  inspired  their  life  have 
sent  the  echo  of  their  message  far  and  wide. 
Countless  boys  have  read  "  Tom  Brown  at 
Rugby,"  and  felt  the  power  of  the  soul  of 
Thomas  Arnold.  Many,  too,  have  read  of 
Thring  of  Uppingham.  Under  men  like 
these,  the  schools  of  England  have  trained 
the  leaders  of  the  nation.  They  have  taught 
boys  from  whose  ranks  should  come  those 
who  were  to  do  the  great  work  of  their  gen- 
erations, honor  and  manliness  and  truth. 
They  have  cultivated  in  their  class-rooms — 
not  always  without  severity  and  rigor — the 
power  of  sound  scholarship;  and  on  their  ath- 
letic grounds  they  have  wrought  the  stamina 
of  those  who,  not  in  the  day's  encounter 
alone,  but  in  the  larger  tests  of  later  life, 
have  learned  how  to  "  play  the  game."  The 
saying  attributed  to  the  Duke  of  Wellington 
is  famous  that — "  the  battle  of  Waterloo  was 


4          THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

won  on  the  playing  fields  of  Eton."  Whether 
that  be  so  or  not,  it  is  true  that  in  the  great 
schools  of  England  men  have  been  bred  who 
have  fought  well  in  those  many  battles  of 
the  common  day,  which  if  less  dramatic  are 
not  less  real. 

Obviously,  the  schools  in  America  cannot 
possess  as  yet  that  quality  of  romance  and 
that  long  richness  of  human  traditions  which 
invest  the  schools  of  England.  Yet  the  real 
achievements  of  the  more  anciently  famous 
schools  they  can  repeat — nay,  more  than  that. 
They  can  do  in  this  larger  country  a  work 
which  while  partaking  of  all  that  is  sound 
and  honorable  in  the  earlier  traditions,  can 
add  to  these  the  fresh  enthusiasm,  the  un- 
hampered and  creative  imagination,  of  the 
free  and  virile  democracy  in  the  midst  of 
which  they  stand.  To  this  ideal  the  greater 
schools  are  already  attaining.  They  are  per- 
petuating high  traditions  of  scholarship. 
They  are  training  boys,  too,  not  only  in  mind, 
but  also  in  heart  and  will.  They  are  develop- 
ing individuals  with  that  broad  open-minded- 
ness  to  the  individual's  possibilities,  which  is 
characteristic  of  America,  and  yet  at  the  same 
time  they  are  teaching  that  which  is  selfish 
in  the  boy's  individualism  to  subordinate  it- 
self in  a  nobler  esprit  de  corps  to  the  pur- 
poses and  aims  of  the  school.  And,  best  of 


SCHOOLMASTER  AND  MAN  5 

all,  they  are  helping  boys  to  understand  that 
the  snobbishness  which  boasts  of  inherited 
wealth  and  privilege,  and  makes  this  an  ex- 
cuse for  selfish  laziness,  is  a  contemptible 
thing,  and  that  the  only  manly  and  honorable 
life  is  one  that  is  trying  truly  to  fit  itself  to 
be  of  use. 

To  have  as  one's  accomplishment  the  crea- 
tion of  a  school  like  this  means  not  only  to 
have  affected  for  good  the  immediate  group 
which  the  school  has  trained,  but  through 
that  to  have  set  in  motion  impulses  in  educa- 
tion and  life  the  bounds  of  which  cannot  be 
marked.  Such  a  work  John  Meigs  achieved, 
and  because  of  that  the  story  of  what  he 
wrought  is  significant  to  all  those  who  regard 
the  potencies  of  American  life  with  seeing 
eyes. 

But,  as  we  said  at  the  beginning,  in  think- 
ing of  him,  there  are  not  one,  but  two  threads 
of  interest  to  be  followed.  The  first,  of  which 
we  have  spoken,  deals  with  that  which  is  the 
more  obvious — since  it  has  to  do  in  part  with 
visible  things.  Yet  it  is  the  second  which 
reaches  down  to  a  deeper  and  more  instinctive 
chord  of  human  response.  Comparatively 
few  persons  are  immediately  concerned  with 
the  details  of  the  building  or  the  government 
of  schools.  We  do  not  expect  ourselves  to 
be  confronted  with  these  particular  tasks  and 


6          THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

problems;  and  howsoever  much  we  may  ad- 
mire what  another  has  achieved  in  this  direc- 
tion, we  should  not  be  helped  in  our  particular 
responsibilities  by  the  technical  facts  of  what 
a  schoolmaster  had  managed  to  do.  We 
might  be  interested,  but  not  moved.  But  if 
through  "The  Master  of  The  Hill"  we  can  see 
and  understand  the  man — see  the  human  soul 
in  all  the  poignant  reality  of  its  kinship  to  our 
own — aspiring,  struggling,  conscious  of  faults, 
battling  for  self-mastery,  mindful  of  its 
limitations,  yet  reaching  after  God — then  we 
begin  to  know  that  we  are  not  reading  a  story 
impersonal  to  ourselves.  Rather,  we  shall  be 
reading  one  more  expression  of  that  infinite 
drama  of  human  life,  which  is  not  without 
us  only,  but  within  us  too — the  reflection  in 
another's  experience,  made  perhaps  the  more 
clear  thus  for  us  to  consider  and  understand, 
of  realities  which,  intuitively  at  least,  we  dimly 
know.  When  in  this  sense  we  read  the  record 
of  another  man's  life  and  working,  it  does  not 
matter  what  that  man  professionally  was,  or 
what  we  are.  Butcher,  baker,  candle-stick- 
maker,  man  of  business,  lawyer,  doctor, 
woman  in  her  home — whatever  we  may  be, 
we  recognize  in  a  man  who  has  genuinely 
lived,  no  matter  in  what  sphere  he  moved,  an 
experience  and  an  inspiration  which  may  be- 
come the  heritage  of  us  all. 


SCHOOLMASTER  AND  MAN  7 

In  this  vital  and  human  sense,  therefore,  we 
shall  think  of  John  Meigs.  There  was  noth- 
ing remote  about  him.  No  one  who  knew  him 
would  try  to  ascribe  to  him  that  passionless 
perfection  with  which  sometimes  an  amiable 
but  anaemic  art  paints  its  haloed  saints — the 
saints  who  in  reality  were  men  fashioned  into 
refinement  through  much  sore  discipline  and 
courageous  pain.  There  was  a  great  deal  in 
him  which  was  fine  and  lovely  from  the  first; 
but  there  were  elements  also  against  which 
he  had  to  fight  with  grievous  effort.  In  his 
relationship  with  those  he  loved  best,  and  in 
his  relationship  with  all  persons  in  those  many 
times  when  his  easily  roused  sympathy  over- 
flowed, he  was  full  of  a  lovely  tenderness.  He 
kept  even  through  weary  years  a  boy's  capac- 
ity for  fun  and  enthusiastic  playfulness.  But 
he  had  a  will  which  when  it  was  set  upon 
some  goal  drove  forward  with  a  kind  of  awe- 
inspiring  inflexibility;  and  they  who  blocked 
it,  did  so  at  their  peril.  When  his  plans  were 
interfered  with,  or  more  especially  when  he 
confronted  stupid  inefficiency  and  wilful 
wrong,  he  could  launch  against  the  offender  a 
blast  of  scorn  and  anger  which  withered  like 
a  flame;  but  when  he  himself  had  been  unjust, 
none  could  be  more  swift  and  humbly  eager 
to  make  amends.  There  were  moments  in  his 
work  at  the  school  when  it  seemed  as  though 


8          THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

his  nature  were  being  hammered  out  by  the 
mighty  strokes  of  conflicting  influences,  and 
fashioned  into  the  larger  likeness  still  to  be 
revealed. 

While  he  was  still  living,  there  was  on  ex- 
hibition once  in  New  York  a  piece  of  sculp- 
ture which,  to  some  who  looked  at  it,  seemed 
strangely  symbolic  of  these  spiritual  facts 
which  were  true  of  him.  It  was  a  great  head 
of  Abraham  Lincoln,  colossal  in  size,  deliber- 
ately half-hewn,  unfinished.  The  face  was 
beautiful  with  haunting  power,  full  of  all  the 
mystery  and  the  majesty  of  the  brooding 
human  soul — and  back  of  it  only  the  unhewn 
marble.  The  Master  of  The  Hill,  whom  many 
feared  and  many  loved,  had  a  soul  whose  crea- 
tion seemed  like  that.  Always  those  who 
looked  upon  him  saw  that  he  was  fashioned 
out  of  a  larger  mould  than  common  men.  In 
every  sense  there  was  a  bigness  about  him. 
The  soul  of  the  man  looked  out  of  him,  great 
and  strong  and  yearning.  Yet  one  could  feel 
back  of  it  something  of  the  elemental  rugged- 
ness — almost  the  harshness — of  the  human 
material  which  the  divine  spark  was  slowly 
transfusing  and  transfiguring.  Sometimes 
there  came  a  kind  of  awesome  sense  of  the 
contrary  possibilities  of  his  nature.  The 
powerful  will,  the  impetuous  and  sometimes 
passionate  emotion,  the  volcanic  energy,  might 


SCHOOLMASTER  AND  MAN  9 

have  been  as  terrible  had  they  been  turned 
toward  any  evil  as  they  were  glorious  turned 
toward  good.  He,  himself,  must  have  been 
aware  of  the  peril,  as  well  as  the  possibilities, 
of  those  elements  within  him.  He  had  that 
highest  wisdom  of  humility  which  made  him 
know  that  he,  himself,  was  not  sufficient  to 
rule  his  spirit  well.  He  reached  up  after  God 
with  a  genuineness  such  as  only  a  man  in 
deepest  earnest  concerning  the  great  business 
of  his  living  can  possess.  He  grew  and 
changed  under  the  touch  of  that  higher  spirit 
which  he  sought.  From  the  beginning  strong, 
impetuous,  generous,  true,  he  became,  as  the 
years  went  on,  more  patient,  self-controlled, 
forbearing.  He  won  through  many  a  battle, 
and  not  without  pain  and  wounds,  the  finished 
manhood  of  his  final  and  noblest  years. 


CHAPTER  II 

JOHN  MEIGS'  ANCESTRY,  AND  HIS  ANTE- 
CEDENTS AT  THE  HILL 

Pioneers  of  the  Meigs  Name  in  the  Life  of  New  England — 
The  First  John  Meigs  and  His  Adventures — Figures  of  Mark 
in  the  Generations  Following — The  Father  and  Mother  of  John 
Meigs,  of  The  Hill— The  Beginning  of  the  School  in  1851. 

THOUGH  John  Meigs,  himself,  was  born 
in  Pennsylvania,  went  to  school  and 
college  and  spent  all  the  years  of  his 
working  life  there,  and  died  within  the  walls 
of  the  house  in  which  he  was  born,  his  earlier 
ancestry  belonged  to  another  part  of  the  coun- 
try. The  first  of  the  family  line  in  America 
who  bore  his  name  was  John  Meigs,  of  Ham- 
monassett,  near  Guilford,  Connecticut,  who, 
with  his  father,  Vincent  Meigs,  came  to  New 
England  in  the  very  early  days  of  the  Ply- 
mouth colony  and  was  in  Weymouth  by  1639. 
It  was  in  1654  that  Vincent  Meigs  and  his 
sons  came  to  Hammonassett.  There  they 
lived  till  the  father  died  in  1658,  and  John 
Meigs  remained  there  until — shortly  before 
his  death,  which  befell  in  1672 — he  removed 
to  Killingworth. 

Concerning  this  John  Meigs,  the  following 
quaint  record  is  embodied  in  the  official  pro- 


JOHN  MEIGS'  ANCESTRY  n 

ceedings  of  the  Court  of  Guilford  for  Decem- 
ber 4th,  1657. 

"  John  Meigs  being  called  for  on  complaint 
that  he  came  with  his  cart  from  Hamonaffet 
late  in  the  night  on  the  Lord's  Day,  making  a 
noife  as  he  came,  to  the  offenfe  of  many  who 
heard  it. 

"  Then  appeared  and  answered  that  he  was 
miftaken  in  the  time  of  day,  Thinking  that 
he  had  time  enough  for  the  journey.  But  be- 
ing somewhat  more  ladened  than  he  appre- 
hended, the  cattle  came  more  slowly  than 
ufual,  and  so  caft  him  behind,  it  proving  to 
be  more  late  of  the  day  than  he  had  thought. 
But  he  profefsed  to  be  sorry  for  his  miftake, 
and  the  offenfe  juftly  given  thereby,  promif- 
ing  to  be  more  careful  for  the  time  to  come. 

"  The  Court  confidered  the  promifees  did 
see  caufe  (seeing  that  the  matter  seemed  to  be 
done  through  a  surprifsel  and  not  willingly)  to 
pafs  it  over  with  a  reproof  for  this  firft  time, 
on  his  giving  a  public  acknowledgement  of 
his  evil  in  so  neglecting  to  remember  the  Sab- 
bath, on  the  next  lecture  or  firft  day,  with  all 
the  aggravating  circumftances  in  it." 

The  wearied  legs  of  John  Meigs'  cattle  thus 
brought  him  on  this  occasion  unwillingly  into 
court,  and  he  might  have  counted  himself 
fortunate  to  have  escaped  as  well  as  he  did 
from  "  his  evil  in  so  neglecting  to  remember 
the  Sabbath";  but  there  appear  to  have  been 
other  times  when  he  had  come  into  court  upon 


12        THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

his  own  motion,  and  had  had  more  reason  to 
be  sorry  that  he  did.  Earlier  in  the  same 
year  of  1657,  he  appears  on  the  court  docket 
as  plaintiff  in  a  suit  against  two  citizens  of  the 
nearby  town  of  Saybrook,  as  defendants.  In 
those  early  days  of  New  England,  the  sparse 
crops  grown  out  of  the  soil  wrung  with  sore 
difficulty  from  the  wilderness  were  too  pre- 
cious to  be  tamely  allowed  to  be  invaded,  and 
so  John  Meigs  launched  against  his  neigh- 
bors, Chapman  and  Parker,  an  action  for 
trespass  to  stimulate  them  to  a  more  particu- 
lar guardianship  of  their  piratical  "  hoggs." 
He  alleged  that  after  he  had  "  fenced  his  land 
at  Athamonfsook,  with  such  an  orderly  fence 
as  was  sufficient  to  keep  out  great  cattell ;  yet 
the  Defendants*  hoggs  came  into  his  field  and 
destroyed  his  corne." 

One  of  the  witnesses  testified  that  he  had 
driven  fifteen  of  Parker's  hogs  out  of  John 
Meigs'  cornfield,  and  that  furthermore  he  had 
seen,  at  "  Sundry  other  times  the  Defendants' 
hoggs  in  Corne  doing  Spoile." 

The  defendants  replied,  for  their  part, 
that  instead  of  John  Meigs'  fence  being  the 
proud  creation  "  sufficient  to  keep  out  great 
cattell "  which  he  declared  it  was,  as  a  matter 
of  fact  it  was  no  sufficient  fence  to  discourage 
even  hogs.  The  Court  thereupon  appointed 
reviewers  to  examine  the  fence  and  pass  an 


JOHN  MEIGS'  ANCESTRY  13 

opinion  upon  it.  Their  judgment  was  disas- 
trous to  John  Meigs'  contention,  and  the 
Court  returned  a  verdict  in  favor  of  Chapman 
and  Parker,  with  the  expression,  however,  of 
a  hope  that  the  defendants  would  "confider 
the  great  lofse  the  plaintiff  sustained  by  their 
hoggs,  and  that,  therefore,  in  a  neighborly 
way  they  should  confider  to  afford  some  sup- 
ply, as  themselves  would  defire  in  a  like  cafe. 
That  amity  and  good  agreement  might  be  the 
better  maintained  betwixt  the  perfons  and 
towns  of  Seabrooke  and  Guilford  as  for- 
merly." 

Besides  growing  his  crops,  John  Meigs — 
like  the  rest  of  his  neighbors  in  that  hardy 
and  self-sustaining  life  of  the  early  colony — 
was  a  tanner  and  currier  as  well.  In  1647,  he 
brought  against  one  Gregory  a  suit  for  dam- 
ages because  the  latter  had  spoiled  material 
which  he,  the  plaintiff,  had  furnished,  by  mak- 
ing it  up  into  several  dozen  pairs  of  bad  shoes. 
The  Court  seems  to  have  been  more  impressed 
by  the  disagreement  than  by  the  right  of 
either  party  to  claim  much  justification,  and 
fined  Gregory  five  pounds  and  John  Meigs 
ten! 

But  if  not  very  successful  at  the  bar  of  the 
Courts,  John  Meigs  was  eminently  success- 
ful in  more  important  matters.  He  was  a 
man  of  mark  in  many  aspects  of  the  life  of 


i4        THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

that  colony  in  Connecticut  where  he  dwelt. 
The  most  dramatic  single  event  in  his  career 
had  to  do  with  the  aftermath  of  the  Crom- 
wellian  period  in  England  and  the  attempts 
of  Charles  II,  when  he  was  restored  to  the 
throne,  to  punish  on  both  sides  of  the  Atlantic 
certain  of  the  men  who  had  brought  about 
his  father's  execution.  The  judges  who  had 
passed  the  sentence  of  death  upon  Charles  I 
were  excluded  from  the  general  amnesty  pro- 
claimed to  most  of  the  party  of  the  Common- 
wealth; and  three  of  these,  Edward  Whalley, 
William  Goffe  and  John  Dixwell,  had  come  to 
Connecticut  and  sought  refuge  near  New 
Haven.  Governor  Endicott,  in  Boston,  sent 
two  commissioners  to  apprehend  these  regi- 
cides, and  they  set  out  in  1661  to  discharge 
that  commission.  But  when  they  got  to 
Guilford  where  the  fugitives  were  supposed 
to  be  concealed,  they  found  that  the  quarry 
had  fled;  and  in  the  report  which  they  sub- 
mitted to  Governor  Endicott  they  declared: 

"To  our  certain  knowledge,  one  John 
Meigs  was  sent  a  horseback  before  us,  and 
by  his  speedy  going  so  early  before  day,  he 
gave  them  information  so  that  they  escaped 


The  John  Meigs,  therefore,  who  was  not 
averse  to  fighting  his  own  battles  at  law  was 


JOHN  MEIGS'  ANCESTRY  15 

not  afraid  either  to  espouse  unselfishly  the 
perilous  cause  of  others;  and  he  had  the  dar- 
ing, the  hardihood  and  the  skill  to  carry  it  off 
gallantly  to  success. 

When  this  first  John  Meigs  died  in  1672,  he 
bequeathed  his  farm  to  his  son  of  the  same 
name,  and  a  pleasant  commentary  upon  his 
conception  of  the  kind  of  things  that  were  of 
value  is  in  the  item  of  his  will  which  specifies 
as  part  of  his  son's  inheritance,  "  all  my 
wrightings,  Books  and  manucripts,  alfo  my 
book  of  Marters,  Rolls,  Hiftory  of  ye  World, 
Bacons,  Thomas  Bacons,  alfo  Simpfon's  Eng- 
lish Greek  Lexicon,  and  Thams  Dixonarye." 

This  John  Meigs'  wife  was  Thomasine  Fry, 
of  Weymouth,  England,  whom  he  had  mar- 
ried before  coming  to  America  with  his  fa- 
ther, Vincent.  Two  of  his  daughters  bear 
witness  to  the  Puritan  atmosphere  which 
the  thoughts  of  men  and  women  at  that  time 
breathed,  for  their  names  were  "Concur- 
rence "  and  "  TryaL"  Two  other  daughters 
also  he  had,  and  the  one  son,  whom  we  have 
already  mentioned,  named  after  himself. 

This  second  John  Meigs,  like  his  father, 
was  also  a  leading  personage  in  his  commun- 
ity. He  had  been  born  at  Weymouth,  Massa- 
chusetts, in  1641,  but  was  taken  with  his 
parents  when  they  moved  to  Connecticut,  and 
there  he  remained  for  the  rest  of  his  long  life. 


1 6         THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

He  was  one  of  the  twelve  patentees  named  in 
the  charter  of  Guilford  in  1685,  and  in  1692 
he  was  made  deacon  of  the  First  Church  of 
Guilford,  an  office  which  meant  no  little  dig- 
nity and  authority  in  the  theocratic  New  Eng- 
land of  that  day. 

Deacon  John  Meigs  and  his  wife,  Sarah 
Wilcox,  had  eight  children,  the  third  of 
whom,  and  the  second  son,  Janna,  succeeded 
his  father  as  deacon  in  the  Guilford  church. 
He  was  a  representative  also  in  the  Connecti- 
cut Legislature  and  a  captain  in  the  train- 
band of  Guilford  during  restless  years  of 
Indian  warfare.  When  Janna  Meigs  died  in 
1739,  the  Reverend  Jonathan  Todd,  pastor  of 
the  church  in  East  Guilford,  preached  a 
eulogy  over  him  in  which  he  must  have  found 
a  wondrous  amount  to  say — seeing  that  the 
printing  of  it  in  a  subsequent  pamphlet  cov- 
ered forty-four  pages.  In  the  course  of  it  he 
said: 


"And  here,  I  think,  I  may  in  particular 
recommend  unto  us  for  our  Imitation,  the 
Example,  that  hath  been  set  for  us,  by  the 
worshipful  and  much  refpected  Perfon,  whom 
God  hath  the  Week  paft,  difmifsed  from  a 
State  of  Trial,  amongft  us,  and  admitted,  as 
we  doubt  not,  to  inherit  the  Promifes.  .  .  . 

"  He  was  endued  with  that  natural  Capacity 
necefsary  to  make  a  great  and  ufeful  Man; 


JOHN  MEIGS'  ANCESTRY  17 

which  was  improved  by  a  pious  Education 
under  the  Care  of  his  Parents,  and  recom- 
mended by  many  agreeable  Qualifications. 

"  He  was,  therefore,  taken  Notice  of,  as  one 
capable  of  publick  Service  and  Betruftments 
among'ft  us:  And  was  therefore  promoted  to 
Civil  and  Military  Honours  and  Pfiices 
amongft  us.  He  hath  been  a  Father  unto 
us,  the  Leader  of  our  Publick  [Affairs;  and 
rendered  Himfelf  very  ufeful  unto  us.  The 
Gentleman  hath  been  confpicuous  in  him — 
His  Converfation  was  pleafant  and  improving. 
And  his  natural  Temper  helped  to  recommend 
him  to  the  love  and  affections  of  his  ac- 
quaintances, which  was  the  Serious  and  the 
Grave  temper'd  with  the  Cheerful.  He  was  a 
pleafant  Companion  to  the  Wife,  and  a  gen- 
erous Friend.  .  .  . 

"  But  that,  which  I  efpecially  propofe  to  re- 
mark, is,  his  Piety  and  exemplary  Vertues. 
Religion  was  what  seem'd  to  be  moft  upon 
his  Heart;  to  approve  himself  faithful  unto 
God,  in  the  Places  and  Relations  in  which 
Divine  Providence  had  set  him,  seem'd  to  be 
his  greateft  Concern." 

Janna  Meigs  and  Hannah  Willard,  his  wife, 
had  nine  children,  two  of  whom  were  twins, 
and  the  arrival  of  whom  seems  to  have  been 
received  with  a  mingling  of  consternation  and 
the  meekness  of  recollected  piety.  The  tradi- 
tion runs  that  "  on  the  announcement  of  the 
arrival  of  the  first,  to  check  the  rejoicing  of 
the  family,  Janna  Meigs  said,  '  Silence,'  and 


1 8        THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

on  that  of  the  second,  moved  by  his  patient 
spirit,  he  said,  '  Submit.'  The  twins  were 
afterwards  given  these  names." 

The  eldest  son  of  Janna  Meigs,  born  in 
1699,  was  named  after  his  father;  and  the 
youngest  son  of  this  second  Janna,  Seth 
Meigs,  was  the  first  of  the  family  line  to  leave 
New  England.  He  settled  in  Albany,  where 
he  married,  and  whence  he  went  out  to  serve 
in  the  Continental  Army  during  the  Revolu- 
tion. He  married  Jemina  Van  Boskerk,  the 
widow  of  William  Van  Loan — and  had  one 
son.  To  this  son,  John,  who  married  Hannah 
Kughler,  was  born — among  eleven  children — 
a  son  who  was  named  Matthew  Kughler,  and 
this  Matthew  K.  Meigs  was  the  father  of 
the  John  Meigs  with  whom  this  book  has 
to  do. 

This  lengthy  tracing  of  ancestry  is  of  worth 
because  it  helps  us  with  more  appreciative 
eyes  to  interpret  the  character  of  the  man 
whose  lineage  it  forms.  It  is  not  from  father 
and  mother  alone  that  the  deepest  elements 
in  inherited  disposition  may  come.  Dim  im- 
pulses which  stir  in  the  blood,  and  half-hidden 
inclinations  which  work  in  the  subconscious 
mind,  may  owe  their  origin  to  the  far-off  gen- 
erations, just  as  the  direction  of  the  river  is 
shaped  not  so  much  by  the  immediate  channel 
as  by  the  set  of  the  streams  that  rise  in  the 


JOHN  MEIGS'  ANCESTRY  19 

unseen  distant  hills.  Something  of  that  first 
John  Meigs,  who  in  the  seventeenth  century 
saved  the  regicides  by  his  "  speedy  and  unex- 
pected going  so  early  before  day,"  may  have 
lived  again  in  the  strong  son  of  the  ninth 
generation,  who  in  his  different  world  could 
show  a  vigor  and  an  impetuous  energy  like 
his  ancestor  of  the  older  day.  The  spirit  of 
that  second  John  Meigs,  too,  the  sturdy 
brother  of  Concurrence  and  Tryal,  and  deacon 
of  the  church  in  Guilford,  may  have  helped 
to  fashion  that  inmost  fibre  of  loyalty  to  re- 
ligious things  which  the  last  John  Meigs,  like 
the  earlier  one,  possessed.  To  men  like  these, 
and  to  women  who  were  the  wives  and 
mothers,  on  both  sides  of  his  house,  if  less 
traceably  yet  not  less  really  than  to  his  father 
and  mother,  he  owed  the  qualities  that  came 
to  him  at  his  birth. 

On  his  mother's  side  also,  John  Meigs'  an- 
cestry linked  him  with  New  England.  His 
mother's  name  was  Mary  Moulton  Gould. 
Her  father,  William  Ripley  Gould,  who  could 
trace  his  descent  back  to  the  Bradfords  and 
Brewsters  of  the  first  Plymouth  Colony,  was 
born  and  brought  up  in  Sharon,  Connecticut, 
and  before  he  was  ready  to  enter  college  he 
became  engaged  to  Eunice  York,  of  Torring- 
ton.  She  would  not  marry  him,  though,  until 
he  had  finished  his  education,  and  so  the 


20        THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

seven-year  engagement  continued  until  he 
had  graduated  from  Yale  College,  in  1812, 
and  then — for  he  had  determined  to  become  a 
minister — had  gone  his  way  through  the  Di- 
vinity School.  Claiming  his  bride  at  last,  he 
took  her  to  his  first  parish,  in  Gallipolis,  Ohio, 
and  there  in  the  Manse  Mary  Gould  was  born. 
Later,  when  she  and  the  other  children  began 
to  be  ready  for  school,  her  father  moved  to  his 
wife's  old  home,  Torrington.  All  the  rest  of 
her  girlhood  was  spent  in  New  England,  and 
there  she  went  to  Mt.  Holyoke  Seminary  in 
the  early  days  of  Mary  Lyon.  In  1836,  she 
met  Matthew  Meigs  and  they  were  married 
in  1842.  Of  loving  and  gentle  spirit,  and 
marked — as  we  shall  see  anon — by  an  unself- 
ish consecration  which  grew  out  of  religious 
loyalties  that  were  as  winsome  as  they  were 
deep,  she  was  to  give  to  her  son  those  pro- 
founder  emotional  qualities  which  increas- 
ingly should  dominate  his  nature. 

Matthew  K.  Meigs,  John  Meigs'  father, 
went  from  his  father's  home,  in  Albany,  to 
Union  College,  from  which  he  graduated  in 
1836,  and  then  entered  Union  Theological 
Seminary,  whence  he  went  out  as  a  Presby- 
terian minister,  in  1839.  For  a  very  short 
while  he  was  pastor  of  a  church  in  Pontiac, 
Michigan,  but  his  temperament  was  not  such 
as-  to  make  the  pastoral  work  permanently 


JOHN  MEIGS'  ANCESTRY  21 

congenial.  The  intellectual  side  of  him  pre- 
dominated, and  he  shortly  left  the  regular 
activities  of  a  parish  minister  for  educational 
work.  For  four  years  he  was  a  professor  in 
the  University  of  Michigan,  in  1844  became 
assistant  to  Dr.  Boyd,  pastor  of  the  Presby- 
terian Church  at  Winchester,  Virginia,  and 
later  removed  to  Newark,  Delaware,  to  be- 
come president,  until  1851,  of  Delaware  Col- 
lege. 

In  that  year,  he  concluded  that  his  health 
was  not  strong  enough  for  him  to  continue  in 
his  college  presidency,  and  he  determined  that 
he  would  go  somewhere  and  establish  a  small 
day  school,  in  which  also  he  would  train  his 
own  boys.  Mrs.  Meigs'  younger  sister,  Re- 
becca, had  married  Reverend  W.  R.  Work, 
and  these  two  were  conducting  at  that  time 
a  school  for  girls,  called  the  "  Cottage  Semi- 
nary," in  Pottstown,  Pennsylvania.  On  the 
crest  of  a  low  but  abrupt  hill,  which  rose  just 
in  front  of  the  Seminary,  was  an  old  stone 
mansion,  set  among  trees,  and  this  Dr.  Meigs 
bought,  and  thither  he  removed  with  his 
family  in  1851.  Some  of  the  lads  at  Delaware 
College — which  was  itself  then  hardly  more 
than  a  school — wanted  to  come  with  him,  and 
for  these  he  added  a  wing  to  the  original 
school  building;  and  thus  the  boarding-school 
on  The  Hill  began. 


22        THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

Pottstown,  on  the  outskirts  of  which  the 
school  was  established,  lies  on  the  northeast 
bank  of  the  Schuylkill  River,  some  forty  miles 
above  Philadelphia.  By  the  early  part  of  the 
eighteenth  century  it  had  been  discovered  that 
there  was  iron  in  the  region,  and  in  1716 
Thomas  Rutter,  of  Germantown,  came  and 
built  some  two  miles  above  the  present  town 
what  is  said  to  have  been  the  first  forge  in 
America.  Tribes  of  Delaware  Indians  roamed 
over  the  country,  but  the  sturdy  Rutter  es- 
tablished himself  in  safety;  and  in  1720  his 
friend,  Thomas  Potts,  Jr.,  came  also  from 
Germantown  to  join  him  in  the  manufacture 
of  iron.  This  Thomas  Potts,  who  at  Rutter's 
death  succeeded  him  in  the  control  of  the 
business,  was  the  founder  of  the  family  from 
whom  the  settlement  that  grew  up  around  the 
iron  forges  took  its  name — the  name  first  of 
Pottsgrove,  changed  in  1829  to  Pottstown. 
John  Potts,  the  son  of  Thomas,  laid  out  the 
streets  of  the  town  and  divided  it  into  lots; 
and  it  was  a  grandson  of  John  Potts  who 
about  1795  built  the  stone  house  on  The 
Hill  which  Matthew  Meigs  was  afterwards 
to  buy. 

The  valley  of  the  Schuylkill  is  naturally  a 
pleasant  country,  of  gentle  undulations  and 
not  infertile  lands,  green  and  fair  to  look 
upon;  but  its  great  iron  deposits  have  called 


JOHN  MEIGS'  ANCESTRY  23 

into  being  along  the  banks  of  the  river  the 
huge  iron  foundries  that  have  given  their 
character  to  the  towns.  They  are  industrial 
communities,  with  an  industrial  population, 
and  an  industrial  aspect.  One  would  never 
now  deliberately  pick  out  Pottstown  as  the 
natural  site  for  a  great  school,  for  there  is 
little  in  the  town  itself  which  suggests  scho- 
lastic quiet  and  the  mellow  atmosphere  of 
meditation.  Yet  upon  the  borders  of  the 
town,  by  the  adventure  of  Matthew  Meigs' 
purchase,  the  school  which  was  to  grow  to 
large  importance  established  itself  amid  its 
trees  upon  its  hill. 

In  these  first  days,  the  school  blended 
quaintly  an  exceeding  simplicity  of  physical 
equipment  and  an  elaborate  old-fashioned 
suggestion  of  the  culture  which  its  founder 
wished  it  to  inspire.  The  only  building  for 
the  work  of  the  school  at  first  was  the  square, 
big-roomed  residence  itself,  to  which  pres- 
ently was  added  the  brick'  addition  to  the  east. 
Back  of  the  school  was  a  large  barn,  with  the 
barnyard,  the  horses  and  cattle  and  farming 
implements  such  as  belonged  to  any  other 
country  house ;  for  the  school  at  that  time  lay 
beyond  the  limits  of  the  town,  and  the  open 
country  stretched  pleasantly  on  every  side  but 
one.  A  crude  gymnasium,  made  out  of  part 
of  a  stable,  and  containing  nothing  within  its 


24        THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

walls  except  a  trapeze  and  parallel  bars, 
served  the  boys  as  part  of  their  play  space, 
and  in  fine  weather  they  played  about  the 
slopes  of  the  hills  and  fields,  to  the  northeast- 
ward, or  went  swimming  in  the  Schuylkill 
River. 

Inside  the  house,  however,  from  the  sim- 
plicity of  field  and  farmyard,  the  boys  entered 
into  another,  and  to  their  young  minds  an 
imposing,  atmosphere.  Fortunately,  there  is 
still  a  living  witness  to  these  first  days  of  the 
school.  Mr.  William  S.  Wells,  of  New 
Haven,  was  a  boy  in  Pottstown  when  Dr. 
Matthew  K.  Meigs  first  bought  from  Na- 
thaniel P.  Hobart  the  house  on  The  Hill  and 
moved  into  it  to  begin  his  school.  "  I  can 
recall  the  day,"  says  Mr.  Wells,  "when  the 
school  was  opened  in  1851,  and  the  entrance 
to  the  grounds  through  a  large  gate,  quite 
near  what  was  called  '  Hobart's  Run.'  I  was 
ten  years  of  age  at  that  time,  and  well  re- 
member the  morning  when,  with  a  few  other 
boys,  I  went  up  The  Hill  on  the  long  curved 
road  to  the  house.  We  assembled  in  a  room 
in  the  southwest  corner  of  the  house — now 
the  parlor — which  was  surrounded  on  three 
sides  by  a  broad  piazza.  I  have  a  very  dis- 
tinct remembrance  of  the  conspicuous  paper 
on  the  walls  of  this  room,  I  think  of  Greek  or 
Roman  personages,  prominent  in  classical  his- 


JOHN  MEIGS'  ANCESTRY  25 

tory,  or  mythological  conceptions  of  those 
days." 

By  other  boys  also  this  amazing  paper  was 
regarded  with  awe-struck  eyes,  and  was  long 
afterwards  remembered.  Mr.  Louis  Richards, 
who  entered  the  school  in  1855,  and  many 
years  afterwards  made  an  address  concerning 
those  first  days,  said:  "The  walls  of  its  spa- 
cious hallway  were  decorated  with  scenes 
from  Scott's  '  Lady  of  the  Lake/  and  those  of 
its  western  parlor  with  sketches  illustrating 
the  'Quest  of  Telemachus.'  Hung  upon  the 
walls  of  the  library  and  reception  room  were 
many  beautiful  engravings,  while  busts  of 
Socrates,  Demosthenes,  Cicero,  Seneca  and 
Homer  looked  down  from  their  niches  upon 
the  students  of  classic  lore." 

Mr.  Wells  continues: 

"  Before  the  session  opened  in  the  school 
room,  we  had  to  take  off  our  shoes  in  the 
anteroom,  put  on  slippers  and  wear  what  was 
called  a  wrapper,  generally  made  from  gaudy- 
colored  cotton  cloth.  And  we  marched  into 
the  school  room  in  military  order — standing 
at  desk,  being  seated,  opening  the  desk  and 
taking  out  the  books  by  the  tap  of  a  bell. 

"  After  the  grounds  were  graded,  statues 
of  classical  personages  were  placed  at  various 
locations  in  the  grounds  near  the  house,  which 
was  an  innovation  in  decoration  for  this 
neighborhood.  An  inquiry  one  day,  to  Dr. 


26        THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

Meigs'  disgust,  was  to  know  '  Who  those  gen- 
erals were? ' " 

Mr.  Wells'  description  of  Dr.  Matthew 
Meigs  himself  is  vivid: 

"The  personal  appearance  of  Dr.  Meigs, 
who  was  a  finely  developed  man,  in  his  long, 
gaudy  wrapper,  and  his  austere  face,  is  fixed 
indelibly  in  my  memory.  He  was  a  man  of 
quick  movements,  but  a  splendid  disciplina- 
rian, and  governed  the  boys  by  advice  and 
admonition,  not  unmixed  with  fear.  To  be 
sent  to  him,  or  sent  for  by  him,  for  an  infrac- 
tion of  the  rules  or  a  misdemeanor,  was 
dreaded  worse  than  if  corporal  punishment 
had  been  expected.  Much  that  Dr.  Meigs  said 
was  burned  into  my  memory  and  has  served 
me  well  through  life.  He  was  very  severe  on 
the  indolent  or  careless  or  obstinate,  and  espe- 
cially those  scholars  who  were  indifferent  or 
lazy  and  did  not  make  preparation  for  recita- 
tions. He  was  a  most  effective  teacher.  I 
can  recall  later  in  the  school  when  I  was 
studying  Geometry  that  he  unexpectedly  ap- 
peared one  day  to  hear  the  recitation.  I,  like 
some  other  boys,  had  a  fairly  good  faculty  to 
memorize,  and  just  before  the  recitation  I 
memorized  the  propositions  and  could  repeat 
them  parrot-style  without  comprehending  the 
subject.  This  day,  when  Dr.  Meigs  unex- 
pectedly appeared,  he  sent  me  to  the  black- 
board first.  I  drew  the  figure,  put  the  letters 
on  the  angles  as  in  the  book;  repeated  the  cap- 
tion, and  was  about  to  commence  when  he 


JOHN  MEIGS'  ANCESTRY  27 

ordered  me  to  erase  all  the  letters  and  sub- 
stitute figures  on  the  angles.  I  could  not  then 
even  make  a  beginning  to  elucidate  the  prop- 
osition. He  found  other  pupils  were  as  igno- 
rant of  the  principles  of  the  subject  as  I  was. 
The  teacher  who  had  this  class  did  not  receive 
any  compliment  for  his  efficiency,  and  we 
were  turned  back  to  the  beginning  of  the 
book,  and  then,  advancing  slowly,  more  fully 
comprehended  the  subject  we  were  studying." 

As  these  recollections  of  the  man  whom 
long  ago  as  a  lad  he  taught  may  suggest,  Dr. 
Matthew  Meigs  was  a  man  of  great  scholarly 
attainment.  He  knew  not  only  his  Greek  and 
Latin  and  modern  languages  thoroughly,  but 
was  familiar  with  Hebrew  and  Sanskrit  also. 
His  reading  was  rapid  and  of  an  exceeding 
range.  He  was  a  stern  and  often  impatient 
teacher,  but  he  kindled  in  the  boys  an  intense 
admiration  for  his  own  attainments,  and  a 
sense  of  the  dignity  of  learning  which  they 
saw  exemplified  in  him.  Without  doubt,  how- 
ever, there  were  times  when  the  boys'  sense 
of  the  sternness  of  his  methods  outweighed 
every  other  impression  which  they  got  from 
him.  Here  is  a  letter  which  one  little  lad 
wrote  home  on  January  2d,  1863 : 

"Dear  Father: 

"  write  to  Mr.  meigs  and  tell  him  not  to  wip 
me  any  more  for  nothing  I  have  hade  to  much 


28        THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

of  his  wiping  and  I  am  not  agoing  to  take 
any  more  I  write  his  name  with  A  small  m 
to  discrace  it  now  remember  write  soon. 
"  yours  effectionetely, 
"  G.  G.  Browning." 

If  Dr.  Meigs'  punishment  was  visited  on  the 
boy  on  account  of  his  dereliction  in  spelling, 
it  must  be  admitted  that  the  master  had  some 
excuse  for  his  violent  procedure. 

His  temperament  was  not  such  as  to  make 
the  work  of  the  school  long  tolerable  to  him. 
He  was  sensitive  and  nervous,  and  his  habit 
of  intense  study,  and  the  late  hours  to  which 
he  read  at  night,  contributed  to  make  him 
irritable  and  restless  under  the  burden  of  the 
school  routine.  He  built  for  himself,  there- 
fore, a  house  some  hundred  yards  away  from 
the  original  school  building,  on  the  school 
grounds,  and  moved  into  it  with  his  family. 
But  his  wife,  who  loved  the  boys  and  the  life 
with  them,  and  in  her  sweet  mothering  was 
an  abiding  influence  upon  them  all,  was  un- 
happy in  the  separation  from  the  immediate 
activities  of  the  school,  and  after  a  time  the 
family  moved  back  again  into  the  original 
residence. 

Settled  there  again,  Dr.  Meigs  fitted  up  for 
himself  a  study  in  the  corner  of  the  house 
that  commanded  a  wide  outlook  over  the  tree- 
tops,  and  withdrew  himself  more  and  more 


JOHN  MEIGS'  ANCESTRY  29 

into  a  solitary  existence.  He  entrenched  him- 
self contentedly  among  his  books  and  put  the 
school  into  the  hands  of  vice-principals,  who 
conducted  it  for  him.  The  result  was  that  the 
school  began  to  decline  in  efficiency  and  in 
numbers.  There  was  needed  some  new  leader 
to  come  and  take  it  if  it  was  ever  to  advance 
to  real  importance  and  commanding  rank. 


CHAPTER  III 
BOYHOOD  AND  YOUTH 

John  Meigs ;  His  Birth  in  1852,  and  Boyhood — Lafayette  Col- 
lege in  the  Mid-Nineteenth  Century — John  Meigs'  Entrance  as  a 
Student — College  Life,  and  Friendships — Reminiscences — His 
Summons  to  the  Work  of  the  School. 

ON  August  3ist,  1852,  in  the  corner  room 
of  the  old  stone  mansion  on  The  Hill 
that  looks  out  over  the  sloping  lawn 
and  over  the  town  towards  the  river,  and  the 
walls  of  which  were  to  include  afterwards  a 
part  of  his  own  study,  John  Meigs  was  born. 
It  was  only  one  year  before  that  the  school 
had  been  established,  and  so  in  the  surround- 
ings of  the  new  institution,  and  as  a  boy 
within  the  ranks  of  the  other  boys,  he  was  to 
grow  up.  He  was  the  fifth  child  and  the 
fourth  son  among  eleven  brothers  and  sisters. 
His  grandfather  and  grandmother  on  his 
mother's  side,  the  Reverend  William  Ripley 
Gould  and  Mrs.  Gould,  were  living  at  The 
Hill.  Father  Gould,  as  the  boys  affection- 
ately called  him,  was  superintendent  of  the 
farm  and  grounds,  and  sometimes  used  to 
preach  also  in  the  Presbyterian  Church  of  the 
town. 

30 


BOYHOOD  AND  YOUTH  31 

The  little  boy,  John,  was  the  special  favor- 
ite of  his  grandparents.  Every  morning  he 
used  to  gather  up  his  clothes  in  a  bundle  in 
his  arms,  and  go  from  his  mother's  room, 
where  he  slept,  into  his  grandparents'  room 
next  door  to  dress.  He  was  an  alert  and  in- 
quiring child,  and  one  of  the  recollections 
which  have  come  down  from  those  earlier 
years  is  that  when  he  would  go  into  his 
grandparents'  room  he  used  to  begin  to  spell 
the  names  of  the  different  articles  of  furniture 
and  other  things  in  the  room.  "  Bureau " 
baffled  him  for  a  long  time,  but  finally  he  got 
that  too.  He  remembered  very  vividly  in 
after  years  the  only  time  his  grandfather 
punished  him.  He  had  called  the  colored 
cook's  little  boy  a  "  nigger,"  which  so  out- 
raged Grandfather  Gould's  ideas  of  kindliness 
that  he  spanked  him  first  and  then  prayed 
with  him.  His  mother  used  to  spank  him  at 
other  times  also,  and  his  grandfather  would 
have  occasion  to  pray  with  him  too.  When 
he  was  head  of  the  school,  his  study  in- 
cluded the  space  that  used  to  be  his  mother's 
room  and  his  grandparents'  room  also, 
and  he  liked  to  tell  that  it  was  reminis- 
cent to  him  of  both  sorts  of  chastening 
experience. 

In  the  school  he  came  under  his  father's 
discipline,  and  Dr.  Matthew  Meigs'  rigorous 


32        THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

ideas  of  scholarship  were  not  at  all  abated, 
but  rather  made  more  urgent,  in  their  applica- 
tion to  his  own  son.  By  the  time  he  was  six, 
he  was  in  the  Latin  class.  By  the  time  he  was 
eight,  he  was  being  taught  Greek  with  his 
older  brothers.  Mr.  Wells  remembers  that 
the  Meigs  boys,  if  they  did  not  know  their 
lessons,  would  usually  be  more  severely  dealt 
with  than  the  others  in  their  class,  though  the 
boys  in  general  recognized  that  the  upbraid- 
ing was  meant  for  their  benefit  and  warning 
also. 

Among  his  companions  John  Meigs  was  a 
vigorous,  upstanding  lad,  liked  and  respected 
and  looked  up  to  on  the  playground,  and  in 
other  places  where  the  boys  would  meet  to- 
gether. They  had  a  habit  of  referring  dis- 
putes to  him,  for  already  a  certain  authorita- 
tive justice  in  the  boy's  character  had  begun 
to  impress  his  companions. 

His  entrance  into  college  came  in  singular 
fashion.  Lafayette  College,  founded  at  Eas- 
ton,  Pennsylvania,  in  1832,  under  Presby- 
terian control,  had  been  appealing  to  all 
Presbyterian  ministers  to  send  their  sons 
there.  Dr.  Matthew  Meigs  accordingly  sent 
his  two  eldest  boys,  and  in  the  fall  of  1866  he 
took  the  third,  Edward  Kirk,  to  Easton  to 
enter  him.  On  the  trip  he  carried  John  along; 
and,  with  his  austere  ideas  of  scholarship,  he 


BOYHOOD  AND  YOUTH  33 

was  very  much  disgusted  by  the  examina- 
tions, which  were  all  oral,  and  to  his  thought 
absurdly  easy.  "  Why,  this  boy  here  could 
pass  them !  "  he  said,  and  forthwith  he  had  the 
boy  try.  John  did  pass;  and  his  father 
promptly  entered  him  in  the  college,  and  de- 
parted for  home. 

The  elder  brother  died  in  December,  and 
the  lad  of  fourteen,  left  alone  in  the  college  to 
which  he  had  been  introduced  in  such  sum- 
mary fashion,  was  naturally  unhappy.  So  his 
father  took  him  away  after  Christmas,  and 
carried  him  with  him  to  Europe  for  a  trip 
which  lasted  until  the  autumn. 

One  boyish  letter,  written  to  his  mother, 
telling  her  of  the  things  he  had  seen  in  Rome, 
remains  as  the  only  immediate  record  of  the 
lad's  experiences.  There  is  nothing  in  the 
letter  which  is  extraordinary,  nor  indicative 
as  yet  of  anything  except  the  natural  interest 
of  the  boy  in  new  experiences  and  strange 
associations. 

Two  echoes  of  this  early  journey  appear  in 
letters  written  many  years  afterwards: 

"  I  visited  this  place  [Perugia]  when  I  was 
in  Italy  as  a  boy,  and  remember  particularly 
the  promenade  on  the  city  walls  in  the  eve- 
ning when  everybody  and  a  few  more  seemed 
to  be  in  evidence,  and  the  view  from  the  afore- 
said walls. 


34        THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

In  the  fall  of  1867  he  re-entered  Lafayette 
College,  and  began  that  part  of  his  college 
course  which  was  to  be  continued  now  until 
his  graduation  in  1871.  The  college,  then 
thirty-five  years  old,  was  still  simple  and  al- 
most primitive  in  its  equipment,  and  sparsely 
endowed.  It  was  situated  beautifully  on  a 
bluff  above  old  Easton  and  the  Delaware 
River,  in  the  midst  of  what  had  been  a  farm 
and  orchard;  apple  trees  still  grew  upon  the 
college  campus,  and  the  fences  of  the  farm 
divisions  ran  here  and  there.  There  were 
fifty-eight  men  in  John  Meigs'  class,  which 
was  nearly  half  of  the  total  number — one  hun- 
dred and  twenty-eight — in  the  whole  college. 
There  were  fourteen  professors  and  four  as- 
sistants in  the  faculty. 

Founded  as  a  Presbyterian  college,  and 
under  the  direct  control  of  the  Philadelphia 
Synod  of  the  Church,  the  college  was  con- 
ducted with  a  very  distinct  and  forthright  pur- 
pose to  nurture  its  students  in  sound  and 
orthodox  ideas.  "  The  Classical  Course,"  says 
a  paragraph  in  the  catalogue  of  1867,  "  is  the 
same  as  the  Undergraduate  Course  of  our  best 
colleges;  it  will  be  pursued  here,  as  it  has  so 
long  been,  as  the  regular  introduction  to  the 
special  professional  study  of  Theology,  Medi- 
cine or  Law,  and  also  as  a  thoroughly  tried 
means  of  securing  the  culture  and  elevation  of 


BOYHOOD  AND  YOUTH  35 

mind,  and  of  imparting  the  useful  and  liberal 
learning  which  becomes  a  Christian  scholar.'1 
And    as    to   the    newly    created    Scientific 
Course,  the  catalogue  remarks: 

"  The  trustees  of  the  College  are  deeply  im- 
pressed with  the  thought  that  our  present  col- 
legiate system  has  grown  up  under  the  fos- 
tering care  of  the  Church,  and  the  relations 
of  our  old  college  studies  to  manly  culture 
and  religious  training,  have  been  studied  by 
generations  of  Christian  educators.  They 
have  therefore  taken  care  that  the  new  course 
shall  not  be  removed  from  the  old  land- 
marks, and  that  as  far  as  possible  the  old 
approved  methods  of  instruction  shall  be  used 
in  all  the  departments  of  study.  It  will  be 
found  that  the  new  course  includes  all  the 
studies  of  the  old,  except  the  Ancient  Lan- 
guages, and  it  is  believed  that  the  method 
of  teaching  English  and  other  Modern  Clas- 
sics, which  has  been  for  some  years  in  use 
in  the  College,  may  be  so  adapted  to  the  stu- 
dents of  the  new  course  as  to  give  in  a  good 
degree  the  same  kind  of  discipline  that  is  de- 
rived from  the  study  of  Greek  and  Latin." 

And  then,  as  though  to  quiet  any  unrest  in 
ecclesiastical  circles,  the  comment  on  this 
course  goes  cautiously  on: 

"  It  is  perhaps  scarcely  necessary  to  add 
that  the  Board  intend  that  the  whole  Scien- 
tific Course  shall  have  the  Christian  character 


36        THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

which  they  have  endeavored  to  impress  upon 
the  studies  of  the  College,  and  that  science 
shall  be  here  so  taught  as  to  become  the  hand- 
maid of  religion.  All  the  departments  will  be 
in  the  hands  of  Christian  scholars,  who  will 
not  fail  to  improve,  in  their  various  instruc- 
tions, the  opportunity  constantly  recurring  of 
directing  the  student  from  Nature  to  Nature's 
God.  But  in  addition  to  this  and  also  to  the 
systematic  and  thorough  study  of  the  Word 
of  God  in  all  the  classes,  both  of  the  Classical 
and  the  Scientific  Course,  special  lectures  will 
be  given  upon  the  connection  of  Science  with 
Revealed  Religion,  that  the  student  may  be 
thoroughly  informed  upon  the  issues  that  are 
made,  and  be  prepared  to  meet  the  arguments 
from  Physical  Science,  by  which  our  common 
Christianity  is  usually  assailed." 

Prayers  were  held  in  the  college  chapel 
morning  and  evening  and  "  preaching  on 
Sabbath  afternoon,"  and  at  all  these  times  the 
students  were  required  to  attend.  On  Sunday 
morning  they  could  go  to  the  church  of  their 
own  choice  in  town.  John  Meigs  was  already 
by  inclination  an  earnest-minded  lad,  and  at- 
tendance at  religious  service  was  for  him  by 
no  means  a  perfunctory  necessity.  He  used  to 
go  to  the  Episcopal  Church  in  the  mornings, 
and  sang  in  the  choir.  In  his  fundamental 
convictions  he  agreed  with  those  great  ideals 
of  Christian  truth  which  the  college  was 
founded  to  cherish,  but  he  was  somewhat 


JOHN  MEIGS,  AGED  EIGHTEEN 


BOYHOOD  AND  YOUTH  37 

restive  even  then  at  the  narrowness  of  some 
of  its  teachings. 

With  the  mental  power  which  the  rigorous 
preparation  he  had  had  under  his  father's 
guidance  gave  him,  he  threw  himself  with  de- 
termined perseverance  into  the  work  of  his 
classes.  In  a  letter  written  some  years  after 
he  left  college  is  this  paragraph: 

"  In  looking  over  countless  papers  that  have 
been  accumulating  for  years,  I  found  one  of 
my  old  college  reports.  One  fails  to  attach 
much  value  to  these  things  after  so  many 
years,  but  I  shall  always  remember  the  glow 
with  which  I  received  these  reports  in  my 
youthful  days,  and  how  earnestly  they  would 
be  anticipated  as  if  my  eternal  state  was  con- 
tingent on  certain  combination  and  permuta- 
tion of  figures;  and  yet  in  work,  for  I  was 
but  a  child  in  those  days,  I  never  thought 
much  of  the  measure  of  others'  estimates,  but 
to  find  my  own  pleasure  in  doing,  as  cleanly 
as  I  could,  the  weekly  round  of  duties,  and 
wish  for  more,  and  so  it  went  on  until  more 
came,  and  with  the  increment  of  work  came 
the  enlargement  of  capacity  and  desire  for 
something  to  satisfy  my  love  that  underlay 
my  work." 

In  the  fall  of  1868  his  mother  wrote  to  him: 

"  I  expect,  my  Dear  Boy,  you  are  doing 
your  very  best  as  a  student.  I  fear  that  you 
will  not  exercise  enough.  Do  not  fail  of 


3 8        THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

spending  a  couple  of  hours  in  smart  exercise 
in  the  open  air.  Take  hold  of  baseball  or 
some  such  sport  for  one  hour  at  least.  Con- 
vinced that  our  dear  Eddie's  life  was  shortened 
by  his  close  student  habits  of  the  two  months 
preceding  his  death,  I  feel  strangely  anxious 
that  you  use  every  precaution  that  will 
strengthen  and  establish  your  health.  Your 
father's  life  of  suffering  has  all  originated  in 
his  unwise  student  habits.  Avoid  the  evil, 
choose  the  good.  ..." 

As  to  whether  he  followed  her  advice  in 
regard  to  athletics  or  not  there  is  no  record, 
and  it  is  to  be  remembered  that  in  those  days 
there  were  no  such  organized  forms  of  college 
sports  as  are  familiar  in  America  to-day;  but 
at  any  rate,  he  was  a  healthy,  active  lad,  who 
grew  naturally  into  his  manly  strength,  and 
impressed  his  companions  with  his  energy  and 
vigor.  The  last  words  of  her  letter  he  cer- 
tainly did  make  true — he  avoided  the  evil  and 
chose  the  good.  All  the  men  at  Lafayette 
who  knew  him  remembered  him  as  clean  and 
upright,  free  from  anything  low  and  mean, 
wholesome  in  all  his  influence. 

In  this  essential  goodness  of  his  there  was 
nothing  in  the  least  aloof  or  unnatural.  On 
the  contrary,  he  was  full  of  the  instinct  of 
human  fellowship — light-hearted,  fun-loving, 
sociable.  He  was  a  member  of  a  trio  who 
sang  together,  and  were  in  the  habit  of  going 


BOYHOOD  AND  YOUTH  39 

about  serenading  the  girls  of  the  town. 
Among  the  men,  he  was  known  and  loved 
for  his  quick  humor  and  his  vivacity.  Some 
of  the  professors  at  the  college,  however,  used 
to  seeing  piety  go  in  more  sober  garb,  could 
not  understand  that  beneath  his  laughing  and 
impulsive  exterior  John  Meigs  carried  the 
heart  of  earnestness  which  was  really  his. 
Some  of  them  looked  at  him  askance.  One  of 
the  oldest  professors  had  often  been  outraged 
by  his  fun-loving  spirit,  which  showed  itself 
in  an  irrepressible  desire  to  say  amusing 
things  to  the  general  upsetting  of  the  class. 
Once  something  was  thrown  across  the  room 
— a  thing  which  John  Meigs  had  not  done  and 
would  not  have  done — but  the  poor  professor 
turned  in  great  excitement  to  where  he  sat, 
and  indicating  the  missile  which  lay  on  the 
floor,  exclaimed,  "  That  fell  here,  but,"  point- 
ing directly  to  him,  "  it  came  from  there,  John 
Meigs!" 

And  the  friends  who  really  knew  him  re- 
joiced most  of  all  in  the  solemn  concern  which 
another  member  of  the  faculty  expressed 
about  him.  Mr.  David  Bennett  King,  one  of 
John  Meigs'  classmates,  tells  the  story. 

It  happened  that  there  was  a  great  revival 
of  religious  interest  in  the  college,  and  one 
of  Meigs'  classmates  who  had  been  opposed 
to  religious  exercises  and  meetings,  and  to  re- 


40        THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

vival  sermons  and  prayer  meetings  in  particu- 
lar, finally  became  interested,  and  went  to 
consult  Dr.  Coleman,  a  very  distinguished, 
pious  and  venerable  clergyman,  the  professor 
of  Latin,  and  at  that  time  past  eighty,  think- 
ing that  it  would  be  of  great  interest  to  hear 
Dr.  Coleman's  views  on  the  religious  move- 
ment and  revival,  then  so  widespread  among 
the  students.  After  the  interview,  which  was 
a  long  and  most  earnest  one,  as  the  student 
was  going  away  from  the  Doctor's  library, 
the  Doctor  asked  very  seriously: 

"  Mr.  S ,  I  wish  you  would  tell  me  some- 
thing. 

"Well,  sir?" 

"I  wish  you  would  tell  me  confidentially, 
has  Meigs  reformed?" 

But  the  most  intimate  glimpse  of  the  high- 
spirited  lad  whom  the  sedate  old  Doctor 
thought  in  need  of  reformation,  conies  from 
the  recollections  of  two  very  dear  friends 
whom  he  met  first  during  that  time.  One  of 
these  was  Mrs.  Helen  L.  Drown,  whose  hus- 
band, Dr.  Thomas  Drown,  came  to  Lafayette 
in  1874.  The  story  of  what  followed  is  best 
given  in  Mrs.  Drown's  own  words: 

"  My  husband  had  just  been  appointed  to 
the  Chair  of  Chemistry  in  Lafayette  College. 
Until  we  could  move  our  household  effects  to 
enter  upon  our  new  home,  he  established  his 


BOYHOOD  AND  YOUTH  41 

headquarters  in  the  college,  and  joined  some 
of  the  junior  professors  who  took  their  meals 
in  a  boarding-house  on  the  campus.  From 
thence  I  received  the  enthusiastic  message, 
'  You  should  see  John  Meigs ! ' 

"  When  we  were  finally  settled  in  our  new 
surroundings,  John  Meigs  came  to  tea  with 
us,  and  from  that  time  became  as  one  of  our 
household.  His  bonhomie,  winning  smile  and 
social  gifts  made  him  a  charming  companion, 
and  as  acquaintance  progressed,  his  delightful 
fun  was  a  constant  source  of  joy.  He  said 
once  to  a  mutual  friend,  '  They  know  how  to 
take  all  my  nonsense.'  And  indeed  we  did.  It 
was  fun  purely  his  own,  bubbling  up  with 
sparkling  explosions  of  wit.  His  power  of 
repartee  was  lightning  quick.  At  the  board- 
ing-table, being  asked  if  he  would  take  some 
doubtful  lamb,  he  said  in  an  audible  aside, 
'  That's  right,  call  it  pet  names.'  Speaking  of 
an  acquaintance  who  had  too  great  a  fondness 
for  whiskey,  he  said,  '  If  you  threw  a  cork  in 
his  backyard,  he  would  go  out  and  follow  up 
the  scent.'  To  another  who  inquired  when  he 
intended  to  open  his  kindergarten,  he  replied, 
*  Don't  you  worry,  I'll  let  your  mother  know 
in  time.' 

"  With  all  his  wit  and  fun,  there  was  the 
keenly  critical  side.  How  easily  he  summed 
up  people  in  a  few  short  words,  describing 
them  exactly; — and  the  lovable  side,  which 
made  him  pick  up  his  little  friends  and  kiss 
them  in  the  street — his  love  of  beauty,  of 
flowers  and  home  refinement.  His  taste  was 
fastidious  and  correct,  both  as  to  appearance 


42        THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

and  conduct.  A  great  source  of  pleasure  to  us 
was  his  music,  his  hands  fell  with  such  natu- 
ral harmony  on  the  piano,  and  he  had  a 
charming  collection  of  songs  to  which  his 
glorious  voice  did  full  justice. 

"  With  the  heart  of  the  boy  and  the  soul  of 
the  man  he  passed  on  his  way,  full  of  life  and 
vivifying  the  lives  of  all  around  him. 

"  When  the  time  came  for  him  to  assume 
the  new  duties  of  The  Hill  School,  it  found 
him  with  a  mind  well  prepared,  young  as  he 
was,  and  he  entered  upon  his  new  work,  full 
of  courage  and  determination.  I  shall  not 
forget  his  leave  taking.  In  one  sense  it  was 
the  departure  from  the  sunny,  care-free  side  of 
life,  and  as  he  turned  away  his  heart  was  too 
full  to  speak  the  farewell  words. 

"  Many  delightful  visits  followed,  generally 
announced  by  characteristic  telegrams.  '  Will 
be  with  you  for  evening  devotions/  and  such 
like.  It  was  our  custom  to  adjourn  to  the 
dining-room  for  refreshments  before  dispers- 
ing for  the  night,  and  talk,  grave  and  gay, 
went  round  the  table.  My  husband  humor- 
ously called  the  various  helpings,  '  rectifying 
the  frontier.'  In  winter  time,  mince  pie  was 
the  favorite  piece  de  resistance,  and  one  night, 
during  these  week-end  visits,  mince  pie  was 
requisitioned.  Alas!  the  cupboard  was  bare 
of  the  favorite  dish.  '  What ! '  was  the  ex- 
clamation of  incredulous  amazement,  '  no 
mince  pie!'  A  hasty  consultation  ensued. 
The  servants  had  retired,  the  range  was  put 
of  commission  for.  the  night,  but  nothing 
daunted,  the  ingredients  were  quickly  col- 


BOYHOOD  AND  YOUTH  43 

lected,  the  draughts  put  on,  and  in  less  than 
half  an  hour  we  were  in  the  dining-room 
again,  '  rectifying  the  frontier  *  amid  great 
applause  and  approval.  We  loved  to  please 
John,  he  was  so  appreciative.  It  was  at  one 
such  time  that  John  heard  of  several  new 
pupils  from  the  West  who  were  to  enter  The 
Hill  School.  Opening  the  dining-room  door, 
he  called  to  an  imaginary  waiter,  '  Zwei  Mil- 
waukee/ in  triumph.  It  seems  impossible  to 
describe  the  serio-comic  manner  and  voice 
which  accompanied  these  outbursts. 

"  At  another  time  when  he  was  leaving  us, 
and  the  carriage  was  at  the  door  to  take  him 
to  the  station,  he  descended  the  steps  and  with 
the  air  of  a  grandiloquent  magnate  called 
out,  '  To  the  bank ! '  but  our  Irish  Peter  was 
equal  to  the  occasion  and  replied  with  amused 
indulgence,  '  Now  then,  Mr.  Meigs,  you  get  in 
and  none  o'  yer  nonsense/ 

"  One  Christmas  was  made  memorable  by 
the  advent  of  '  Uncle  Remus/  We  read  him 
round  the  wood  fire,  thoroughly  enjoying  the 
sayings  and  doings  of  the  woodland  creatures. 
John  suddenly  took  his  departure  for  New 
York  one  afternoon  because  he  thought  some- 
one was  interfering  with  a  cherished  plan.  In 
a  very  short  time  the  telephone  rang  out  the 
message  we  were  waiting  to  hear,  '  Brer  Rab- 
bit suspend  Brer  Fox  in  de  elements/  which 
announced  his  satisfaction." 

The  other  intimate  friend  of  these  years, 
who  came  afterwards  to  be  the  very  closest 
and  best-loved  friend — outside  the  immediate 


44        THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

family  circle — whom  John  Meigs  cherished, 
was  Mrs.  Sarah  D.  Raymond,  the  wife  of 
Rossiter  W.  Raymond. 

Thus  she  writes  of  her  memories  of  the 
days  when  he  was  still  at  Lafayette: 

"  When  first  I  knew  John,  I  think  he  was 
just  nineteen.  I  met  him  at  Dr.  Thomas 
Drown's,  at  Easton.  We  lived  at  Durham, 
Pennsylvania,  in  the  summer  time,  right 
across  the  river  from  them.  He  used  to  come 
over  almost  always  unexpectedly.  My  chil- 
dren were  all  little,  the  youngest  being  a  baby 
about  two  years  old,  and  whenever  he  came, 
from  the  great-grandmother  of  the  family 
down  to  the  baby,  servants  and  all,  it  was  a 
day  of  rejoicing.  They  all  loved  him  and 
loved  to  see  him  come.  A  shout  used  to  go 
up,  '  Oh,  here  comes  Mr.  Meigs ! '  and  every- 
thing else  was  dropped  for  the  pleasure  of  see- 
ing him,  hearing  him  talk  and  laugh  and  sing. 
He  had  an  exquisitely  tender  and  sweet  voice 
at  that  time,  and  had  a  beautiful  touch  on  the 
piano,  just  a  natural  touch,  playing  every- 
thing by  ear,  but  when  he  began  his  songs, 
whether  they  were  sea  songs,  war  songs,  love 
songs  or  cradle  songs,  there  was  always  a 
large  chorus  which  helped  him  along.  Every- 
body loved  him,  the  servants  fairly  worshiped 
him,  and  he  used  to  sing  Irish  songs  when  he 
thought  they  were  listening,  just  to  please 
them.  He  was  always  thinking  of  other  peo- 
ple and  doing  what  he  thought  would  please 
and  make  them  happy. 


BOYHOOD  AND  YOUTH  45 

"  He  was  slender  and  very  active  and  could 
do  anything  he  wanted  to  but  dance.  How- 
ever, one  of  the  youngest  of  the  little  group 
used  to  insist  upon  it  that  she  could  not  dance 
with  anyone  but  Mr.  Meigs. 

"He  felt  himself  perfectly  at  liberty  at  our 
house,  therefore  we  saw  the  very  tenderest 
and  sweetest  side  of  his  nature. 

"  My  youngest  child,  little  Dwight,  having 
been  a  great  invalid  during  his  babyhood  and 
rather  fretful,  was  instantly  quieted  and  de- 
lighted the  minute  Mr.  Meigs  appeared.  He 
was  beloved  by  every  child  that  came  near 
him.  He  could  lure  the  most  bashful  or 
naughty  child  to  him. 

"  My  husband  was  superintendent  of  some 
iron  works,  and  at  one  place  he  used  to  pass 
there  were  about  a  million  little  children  who 
used  to  gather  there,  perched  all  around,  and 
they  would  watch  us  as  we  passed.  One  day 
Mr.  Meigs  was  with  us,  and  when  he  saw 
these  poor  children  he  said,  '  I  am  going  to 
buy  all  the  candy  there  is  and  give  it  to  these 
children/  He  had  a  heart  full  of  love  for  lit- 
tle children,  and  my  little  invalid,  captious 
boy,  with  a  high  temper  and  a  great  deal  of 
wit,  chose  him  instantly  as  his  hero." 

Then  follows  this  story  of  a  conversation 
which  might  have  fallen  upon  grown-up  ears 
with  a  shock  had  it  not  been  so  full  of  the 
innocent  naivete  of  a  little  child: 

"  One  Sunday,  it  being  stormy,  the  children 
stayed  at  home  and  I  said  I  would  have  Sun- 


46        THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

day  school  for  them.  My  little  Dwight  was 
only  four  years  old.  His  sister  and  brother 
were  in  the  class,  and  I  began  and  asked  the 
usual  questions,  '  Who  was  the  first  man,  and 
who  was  the  first  woman?'  Then  I  said, 
'Now  I  am  going  to  ask  you  a  question  that 
is  not  in  this  little  catechism,  and  I  want  you 
to  think  it  over  very  carefully.  Who  was  the 
first  person  that  God  ever  sent  into  the  world, 
He  was  so  good  that  anybody  who  loved  Him 
would  be  made  good,  and  He  could  do  any- 
thing He  wanted  to  help  people?'  and  the 
baby  replied,  '  Mr.  Meigs.'  The  other  two 
children  giggled  with  surprise.  I  responded 
as  seriously  as  I  could,  '  Oh  no,  my  dear! '  and 
in  a  most  indignant  tone  he  said,  'Who, 
then?'  I  said,  'It  was  Jesus  Christ,'  and 
he  turned  around  to  his  little  sister,  who 
was  still  smiling,  and  said  in  a  loud  whis- 
per, pointing  to  me  with  scorn,  '  Mudder 
said  Jesus  Christ :  I  say  Meigs ! '  When  I 
told  Mr.  Meigs,  he  laughed,  with  tears  in  his 
eyes. 

"  On  another  occasion,  when  we  had  a  tele- 
gram from  Mr.  Meigs  that  he  was  coming  to 
visit  us,  the  little  boy  was  asleep  when  he  ar- 
rived, but  when  he  heard  the  rapture  of  the 
welcome,  he  dashed  out  of  his  crib  and  rushed 
downstairs  and  cried  hysterically,  '  I  knew 
you  came,  I  knew  you  would  come,  I  kept 
knowing  you  were  coming,'  clinging  to  Mr. 
Meigs'  knees  and  looking  up  into  his  face. 
We  all  moved  away  and  could  say  nothing, 
but  Mr.  Meigs  took  him  up  in  his  arms  and 
went  out  on  the  piazza,  and  they  both  cried 


BOYHOOD  AND  YOUTH  4? 

together.      He   was    only   about    twenty-two 
years  old  at  that  time." 

In  1871,  he,  graduated  from  Lafayette  with 
honors,  and  went  back  to  teach  under  his 
father  at  The  Hill  for  a  year.  This  was,  how- 
ever, not  the  beginning  of  his  permanent  con- 
nection with  the  school,  for  in  the  fall  of  1872 
he  was  back  at  Lafayette  as  an  instructor  of 
modern  languages.  In  1875,  he  was  made 
adjunct  professor  in  this  subject,  and  was 
awarded  the  degree  of  Doctor  of  Philosophy 
at  the  commencement  of  1876. 

As  a  teacher  he  left  his  mark.  An  honor 
man  of  the  class  of  1878  who  was  in  his 
classes  described  his  experience  thus:  "Know- 
ing that  questions  would  be  fired  at  me  so 
thick  and  fast  that  I  should  be  unable  to  think 
out  the  answers,  I  prepared  the  lesson  so  care- 
fully that  I  could  not  fail,  and  should  not  need 
to  think  in  making  the  answers." 

It  was  in  1876  that  John  Meigs  finally  left 
Lafayette  to  go  back  to  The  Hill — this  time 
to  remain.  His  return  came  about  through 
an  appeal  from  his  mother. 

In  the  years  since  The  Hill  School  had  been 
opened,  it  had  been  not  chiefly  Dr.  Matthew 
Meigs  himself,  but  his  wife,  John  Meigs5 
mother,  who  had  been  the  mainspring  of  its 
life.  With  rare  sweetness  and  efficiency  she 


48         THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

gave  herself  in  tireless  unselfishness  to  her 
manifold  duties  as  mother  of  her  own  family, 
and  mother  to  all  the  boys  of  the  school.  She 
had  eleven  children  of  her  own,  and  her  room 
was  nursery  and  playroom  and  schoolroom, 
too,  for  the  smaller  ones  whom  she  taught 
herself.  Dr.  Meigs  went  seven  times  to  Eu- 
rope, and  was  for  a  time  the  United  States 
Consul  at  Athens ;  but  she  never  left  America, 
and  seldom  in  term-time  left  The  Hill.  She 
was  housekeeper  for  the  school,  and  carried 
all  its  affairs  upon  her  mind  and  heart;  she 
watched  over  the  boys'  welfare,  and  even  up 
to  the  time  when  the  number  of  pupils  had 
grown  to  fifty,  she  mended  all  their  clothes. 

Yet,  most  remarkably,  she  never  suffered 
the  pressure  of  her  routine  work  to  take  away 
the  freshness  of  her  interest  in  literature  and 
music  and  all  beautiful  things.  When  she 
was  such  a  little  girl  that  she  could  not  see 
over  the  gallery  rail,  she  sang  in  the  choir  in 
the  old  church  of  her  home  town,  Torrington; 
and  she  continued  to  sing  in  the  Presbyterian 
Church  at  Pottstown  until  she  was  sixty  years 
of  age.  She  gave  music  lessons  at  The  Hill 
for  many  years.  And  meanwhile,  she  some- 
how found  time  for  wide  reading — in  history 
and  biography,  and  among  the  English  novel- 
ists. 

Underneath  all  her  activities  and  her  other 


BOYHOOD  AND  YOUTH  49 

interests,  lay  the  deep  springs  of  her  religious 
life.  She  belonged  to  the  Presbyterian 
Church,  but  she  loved  the  Episcopal  Prayer- 
Book,  and  every  day  read  to  herself — out  of 
a  book  which  at  her  death  was  worn  al- 
most to  fragments — the  morning  and  evening 
prayer.  Amid  the  cares  of  the  school,  and 
her  selfless  ministry  to  her  erudite  and  bril- 
liant, but  eccentric,  husband,  she  kept  in  spirit 
and  in  face  a  serenity,  and  in  her  bearing  a 
queenly  poise,  which  those  who  saw  her  never 
forgot. 

Between  John  Meigs  and  his  mother  there 
was  a  very  close  and  loving  bond.  In  the  years 
while  he  was  teaching  at  Lafayette,  he  sent 
her  each  month  $25.00  out  of  his  salary  to  help 
her  at  the  school.  But  now,  in  1876,  she 
needed  the  help  of  his  personal  presence. 

Some  time  before,  his  father  had  put  the 
school  into  the  charge  of  his  eldest  son, 
George.  But  George  Meigs  had  suffered  a 
nervous  breakdown,  and  the  school  was  drift- 
ing without  a  leader.  There  was  nothing  left, 
therefore,  but  for  John  to  come  to  the  rescue. 

To  undertake  the  responsibility  of  the  school 
had  not  been  his  choice.  He  had  meant  to  be 
a  journalist.  But  he  accepted  his  duty  with 
good  grace.  Since  the  work  had  fallen  to  him 
to  do,  he  set  out  to  do  it  with  all  the  strength 
he  had. 


50        THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

Although  he  had  been  for  a  period  cover- 
ing more  than  nine  years  at  college  as  student 
and  teacher,  he  was  still  a  very  young  man. 
The  commencement  of  that  year,  at  which  he 
received  his  doctor's  degree,  found  him  not 
quite  twenty-four.  He  came  away  from  Eas- 
ton  bringing  the  intellectual  fruits  of  not  a 
little  hard  work,  and  something  also  which  he 
valued  even  more — the  treasures  of  friendship 
which  had  called  out  his  own  warm-hearted 
devotion,  and  from  which  he  was  to  receive  in 
coming  years  inspiration  and  strength. 

Yet  it  is  doubtful  if  even  his  nearest  friends 
at  that  time  understood  exactly  the  direction 
in  which  his  abilities  should  most  signally 
develop.  They  had  seen  much  of  his  happy 
sociability,  his  tenderness  with  children,  his 
good  fellowship  with  men.  They  knew  also, 
of  course,  his  integrity  and  moral  strength. 
But  they  could  not  know — because  indeed  the 
circumstances  had  not  yet  matured  which 
called  into  expression — a  kind  of  power  in  him 
which  should  characterize  his  coming  work. 
They  realized  the  force  which  had  always  been 
evident  beneath  his  good  humor.  They  re- 
membered that  he  had  hardly  ever  argued,  but 
gave  his  opinion  in  short,  decisive  statements 
like  a  man  who,  being  himself  convinced,  ex- 
pected others  to  agree.  But  this  element  of 
his  nature  had  not  been  conspicuous,  because 


BOYHOOD  AND  YOUTH  51 

in  college  no  notably  creative  and  construc- 
tive task  had  challenged  him.  Now,  however, 
when  he  turned  to  face  the  problem  of  re- 
organizing and  re-creating  a  weakened  school, 
such  a  challenge  did  confront  him.  It  was  to 
call  out  a  masterfulness  and  a  personal  au- 
thority which  seemed  to  give  his  whole  char- 
acter a  new  aspect.  In  the  ardor  of  his  task, 
and  in  his  intense  determination  to  accomplish 
what  he  set  himself  to  do,  he  was  to  drive 
ahead  with  an  absorbing  energy  that  some- 
times should  seem  harsh  to  those  who  worked 
under  his  direction.  The  John  Meigs  who 
plunged  into  his  new  duties  at  The  Hill  was 
a  more  forceful,  a  more  formidable  person 
than  the  John  Meigs  at  Lafayette;  and  he  was 
going  to  need  new  influences  to  help  him  keep 
the  balance  of  his  nature  and  make  the  impetu- 
ous .loving-kindness  which  was  always  a  part 
of  him  able  to  sweeten  still  the  strenuous  exer- 
cise of  his  determined  will. 


CHAPTER  IV 
THE  BEGINNING  OF  THE  VENTURE 

Headmaster  of  The  Hill  in  1876— The  Meagre  Equipment 
of  the  School— Financial  Problems— Complex  Responsibilities- 
John  Meigs'  Strenuousness  in  His  Task — Rigid  Standards  of 
Work  and  Discipline — His  Requirements  for  Masters — Comrade- 
ship with  the  Boys — Marriage  in  1882 — His  Spiritual  Self-Dedi- 
cation. 

THUS,  with  the  strength  and  enthusiasm, 
and  perhaps  the  self-confidence,  of 
youth,  yet  with  unusual  maturity  of 
mind,  John  Meigs  came  back  from  Lafayette, 
in  1876,  to  begin  at  The  Hill  the  work  which 
was  to  absorb  henceforth,  for  thirty-five  years, 
all  the  energy  and  devotion  of  his  life. 

To  distinguish  him  from  his  father,  the  elder 
Dr.  Meigs,  he  was  called  "  Professor  " ;  and  by 
that  title,  made  through  familiar  affection 
into  a  name,  he  was  known  by  boys  and  men 
alike. 

Neither  John  Meigs  nor  his  father  had  any 
amount  of  money  to  invest  in  the  school. 
There  existed  no  group  of  other  persons  inter- 
ested in  its  success  and  ready  to  back  it  with 
their  help.  The  school  had  no  connection — as 
some  of  the  great  schools  of  America  have  had 
— with  churches  from  the  ranks  of  which  con- 

5« 


BEGINNING  OF  THE  VENTURE      53 

stant  support  would  come.  It  had  no  clientele 
to  look  to  for  endowment.  It  was  a  venture 
to  the  success  of  which  only  the  determination 
and  ability  of  the  man  who  now  took  it  in 
charge  could  contribute. 

To  succeed  at  all  meant  hard  work  and  able 
management.  If  boys  were  to  be  drawn  to 
the  school,  the  school  must  be  made  such  as 
would  draw  them.  Only  as  the  school  should 
grow  and  prosper  could  the  means  be  acquired 
to  create  the  equipment  which  was  necessary 
if  the  school  should  climb  to  commanding 
rank.  The  burden  which  rested  upon  the 
shoulders  of  the  man  who  had  assumed  the 
school  as  his  responsibility  was,  therefore,  a 
complex  and  sometimes  a  very  heavy  one.  In- 
numerable details  crowded  for  adjustment. 
The  problems  were  not  those  alone  which  the 
head  of  a  day-school  faces — who  must  see  to 
the  teaching  of  the  boys  as  long  as  school 
hours  last,  but  is  freed  from  responsibility  for 
them  as  soon  as  the  last  bell  rings.  For  the 
head  of  a  boarding-school,  the  building  up  of  a 
system  of  instruction,  and  the  supervision  of 
it,  are  only  one  element  in  his  many-sided  task. 
He  is  responsible  not  for  the  mental  culture 
only,  but  for  the  very  life — in  its  simplest  and 
most  urgent  needs,  and  its  highest  and  subtlest 
possibilities — of  the  boys  who  come  from  many 
homes  into  his  single  trust.  He  must  see 


54        THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

that  they  are  properly  housed,  and  properly 
fed.  He  must  see  that  the  surroundings  of  the 
school  are  kept  wholesome.  He  must  show 
in  his  choice  of  the  masters  who  shall  serve 
under  him  the  kind  of  discernment  that  is  able 
to  find  men  who  not  only  can  teach  their  boys 
in  the  classroom,  but  can  be  examples  of  manli- 
ness and  truth  in  the  very  intimate  and  exact- 
ing relationships  of  the  whole  school  day; — 
and  when  he  has  found  them,  he  must  be  able 
to  get  them  to  come.  The  eager  visionary 
might  dream  dreams  of  a  great  school,  nobly 
equipped  and  worthily  manned;  but  visions 
alone  would  not  suffice  unless  there  should  be 
joined  to  them  the  executive  power  and  the 
practical  skill  to  build  them  into  fact.  The 
truth  of  this  confronted  the  younger  Meigs 
when  he  took  the  leadership  of  The  Hill. 
His  father  had  been  content  simply  to  gather 
a  few  boys  into  his  own  home.  He  was  too 
elderly  a  man,  too  much  absorbed  in  his  own 
studies,  and  with  too  much  of  his  life's  am- 
bitions behind  him,  to  attempt  to  create  a 
great  institution.  But  John  Meigs  had  the 
eagerness  and  the  energy  which  could  be  con- 
tent with  nothing  less  than  large  ends.  And 
this  meant,  as  he  clearly  saw,  the  necessity  of 
making  beginnings  so  sound  and  excellent  that 
out  of  them  the  school  should  gradually 
finance  and  build  itself,  and  thus  offset  the 


BEGINNING  OF  THE  VENTURE      55 

limitations  of  poverty  under  which  the  work 
began. 

But  though  the  material  element  had  thus 
to  enter  largely  into  his  thought  and  plans  for 
the  school,  John  Meigs'  spirit  was  never  ma- 
terialistic. When  he  sought  to  build  up  the 
fabric  of  the  school  by  the  only  way  in  which 
it  could  be  built  up — that  is  to  say,  by  the 
returns  each  year  which  an  earnestly  careful 
management  saved  over  the  expenses — the 
building  of  the  fabric  was  never  for  the  build- 
ing's sake,  but  always  that  the  school  might 
grow  better  equipped  to  serve  the  highest 
ideal  of  its  human  usefulness.  When  there  was 
a  surplus  at  the  end  of  a  year's  accounting,  the 
satisfaction  over  it  came  not  from  the  proof  it 
gave  that  the  school  might  be  run  with  profit, 
but  only  from  the  way  it  opened  for  larger  and 
more  lavish  expenditure  upon  the  school  itself 
the  next  year.  There  were  many  times  when 
the  finances  of  the  young  and  struggling 
school  were  a  sore  burden;  and  because  of  the 
money  that  from  the  beginning  had  to  be  bor- 
rowed, this  burden  was  never  wholly  lifted 
from  John  Meigs'  shoulders;  but  through  ad- 
versity or  success  he  was  true  to  what  he  said 
once  to  a  friend  who  long  afterwards  remem- 
bered his  words:  "I  am  not  in  this  to  make 
money.  I  am  glad  I  am  not  hampered  and  can 
carry  out  my  own  ideas  and  ideals.  I  am 


56        THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

working  to  have  a  school  of  the  highest  and 
best  standard." 

Into  the  interpretation  of  that  ideal — "a 
school  of  the  highest  and  best  standard  " — two 
elements  of  his  nature  pre-eminently  entered. 
In  the  first  place,  there  was  his  idealism,  based 
upon  and  drawing  its  strength  from  his  reli- 
gious loyalty.  He  accepted  his  work  at  The 
Hill  as  no  common  profession,  to  be  followed 
through  ordinary  motives  to  a  selfish  success. 
He  took  it  rather  with  reverent  hands,  as  one 
who  receives — though  his  inclination  had  not 
turned  in  this  direction  to  seek  it — a  commis- 
sion for  a  holy  service.  He  wanted  to  make 
the  school  a  place  where  young  lives  might  be 
lifted  into  nobleness,  in  which  might  dwell,  and 
from  which  might  go,  only  that  which  is  high 
and  true  and  good.  This  was  one  aspect.  But 
with  this,  on  the  other  hand,  was  joined  the 
clear,  and  altogether  efficient  realization  that 
to  work  out  an  ultimate  ideal  meant  infinite 
care,  and  often  exceedingly  wearying  patience 
and  thoroughness  in  small  details.  The  foun- 
dations of  the  school's  life,  even  when  they 
went  down  into  the  obscure  and  prosaic  things, 
must  be  laid  in  the  integrity  of  a  purpose 
that  counted  nothing  too  small  to  be  done 
well. 

It  was  fortunate  that  Meigs  had  unusual 
executive  capacity,  and  also  an  extraordinary 


BEGINNING  OF  THE  VENTURE      57 

aptitude  for  hard  work,  for  in  these  early  days 
he  needed  both.  The  later  development  of  his 
own  systematizing,  which  divided  the  detailed 
responsibilities  of  the  school  among  many 
helpers,  with  a  business  office  and  secretaries, 
and  masters  trained  to  assume  charge  of  defi- 
nite spheres  of  work  and  discipline,  had  not 
then  been  possible,  and  he  himself  had  to 
superintend  practically  everything  that  was 
done.  The  most  interesting  feature  of  the 
material  side  of  the  school  was,  of  course,  the 
planning  of  new  buildings,  when  these  became 
feasible;  and  from  the  very  beginning  there 
was  hardly  a  year  during  his  head-mastership 
when  he  was  not  projecting  or  actually  accom- 
plishing some  needed  addition  to  the  school's 
equipment.  But  there  was  much  to  be  done 
that  did  not  have  the  interest  of  new  construc- 
tion. He  taught  as  many  recitations  as  any 
one  of  the  other  three  teachers  who  with  him- 
self made  up  the  faculty — about  twenty-five  a 
week;  kept  all  the  accounts,  drew  all  the 
checks,  wrote  all  the  letters  with  his  own  hand, 
personally  attended  to  all  matters  of  discipline, 
tardinesses  and  absences,  sent  monthly  reports, 
calculated  each  boy's  general  average  for  the 
reports,  personally  saw  all  visitors  to  the 
school,  and  directed  the  work  of  the  other 
teachers  by  conferences  every  day.  Then  the 
ordinary  routine  of  living  had  to  be  kept  in 


58        THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

its  course,  hungry  boys  had  to  be  fed,  and 
servants  had  to  be  found  to  take  care  of 
them. 

Among  his  letters  is  this  half-humorous, 
half-wearied  and  altogether  revealing  account 
of  one  day's  particular  activity : 

"I  feel  like  sitting  down  and  '  boo-hooing,' 
for  after  this  day  and  a-half  of  bleak,  bluster- 
ing blizzard,  during  which  time  I  have  trudged 
and  travelled  ineffectually  in  quest  of  a  cook  to 
suit  us  and  save  us  the  greatest  of  leakages,  I 
am  detained  over  a  second  night  by  the  assur- 
ance from  the  intelligence  office  that  as  to- 
morrow will  be  fair  I  can  certainly  be  suited 
in  regard  to  cook  and  waitresses,  but  I  am 
a-weary,  and  after  going  to  the  ends  of  the 
earth  in  New  York  must  sit  down  and  say, 
' Nothing  but  leaves!'  I  never  knew  such 
weather,  and  how  my  knees  have  fairly 
groaned  with  the  cold  and  weariness!  I  will 
not  try  to  tell  you  all  the  details  of  my  experi- 
ence by  letter;  suffice  it  to  say  I  have  as  yet  not 
gotten  finally  on  the  track  of  just  the  person  I 
need.  To-morrow  I  shall  come  home  with  a 
big  fish  for  next  week's  basket. 

"  P.  is  simply  wild  to  have  me  go  to  the  Twi- 
light Club  with  him  to  hear  him  speak  on 
poetry !  Goodness  alive !  Think  of  my  suffer- 
ing— aching  head,  aching  knees — and  yet 
doomed  to  hear  all  of  the  poetical  rant  of  this 
night.  What  I  want — what  I  need  (and  I 
have  told  P.  ...  this  in  vain),  is  rest,  but 
he  won't  believe  me.  From  eight  until  this 


BEGINNING  OF  THE  VENTURE      59 

thing  is  settled  I  shall  push  towards  cook  and 
home!" 

In  the  later  years  of  the  school's  larger  de- 
velopment, Meigs,  of  course,  did  not  have  to 
go  personally  hunting  cooks,  but  even  then  his 
oversight  was  so  inclusive  that  he  knew  the 
conditions  concerning  all  the  obscure  elements 
of  the  school's  life,  and  he  could  and  would 
recognize  and  remedy  inefficiency  with  a  quick 
and  summary  authority. 

He  had  his  share  of  natural  difficulties,  too, 
in  the  organization  of  the  school  in  its  other 
aspects.  When  it  came  to  choosing  masters, 
his  ideals,  as  we  shall  see,  were  high;  but  his 
decisions  in  this  respect  were  made  hard  for 
him  sometimes  by  his  tender-heartedness. 
And  when  it  came  to  a  question  of  adding  one 
more  to  the  many  lecturers  and  other  special 
speakers  whom  he  used  to  bring  to  the  school, 
his  generosity  might  outweigh  his  more  de- 
liberate desires. 

In  two  of  his  letters  are  these  passages: 

"Dr.  B has  twice  attacked  me  on  the 

subject  of  my  engaging  him  for  next  year,  and 
in  the  usual  impractical,  ai  gumentative,  dis- 
putatious way  that  is  enough  to  drive  me  mad. 
Poor  man!  He  sees  nothing  but  success  and 
rare  aptitude  for  our  work  and  life  in  himself. 
It  is  an  ungracious  enterprise  to  prove  to  a 
man  categorically  that  he  is  unsatisfactory — 


60        THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

not  that  he  is  not  able  as  a  scholar — but  B 

is  a  German  and  that  tells  it  all." 

"  H 's  visit  was  brief,  but  none  too  brief 

for  me.  With  all  of  his  ability  he  is  an  in- 
tolerable, conceited,  self-absorbed,  self-seeking 
lunatic.  I  fairly  pity  him,  and  yet  would 
rather  pity  him  at  a  safe  distance.  He  came 
here  in  a  dress  suit,  dirty  collar,  one  white 
enameled  stud  in  his  shirt,  which  was  shock- 
ingly soiled,  no  baggage  of  any  kind,  but  some 
bad  cigars  and  his  book  of  poems,  unwrapped 
in  his  hand,  with  rusty  hat  and  rustier  over- 
coat. I  gave  him  a  collar  and  a  set  of  shirt 
studs,  which  I  fairly  cudgelled  him  into  wear- 
ing in  the  gaping,  empty  holes  in  his  shirt  front, 
and  loaned  him  every  article  for  his  toilet,  and 
finally  got  him  pulled  into  shape  for  the  night's 
exercises.  He  made  some  preliminary  re- 
marks, full  of  self-complacency  and  deprecia- 
tion of  Emerson,  Longfellow  and  Lowell,  and 
then  read  his  poems,  which  are  certainly  bright 
and  thoughtful.  The  boys  were  delighted,  as 
were  most  of  his  auditors.  He  is  an  original 
fellow.  I  gave  him  $25.00  and  he  left  at  8:30 
the  next  morning,  much  to  my  relief.  His  only 
theme  of  thought  or  talk  was  himself,  and  as 
he  kept  me  up  until  nearly  one  o'clock,  I  am 
effectually  cured.  I  am  glad  to  have  escaped 
so  cheaply.  It  might  have  been  so  much 
worse.  He  has  offered  Lippincott's  the  poems 
for  $10,000!!!!" 

The  necessary  relationship  with  parents  was 
another  sphere  in  which  the  young  headmaster 


BEGINNING  OF  THE  VENTURE      61 

was  put  to  the  test.  Here  his  sense  of  humor 
stood  him  in  good  stead.  He  could  listen  when 
necessary  with  solemn  countenance,  but  in- 
wardly amused  understanding,  to  the  elaborate 
explanations  by  voluble  fathers  and  mothers 
of  the  peculiar  virtues  and  peculiar  needs  of 
their  unexampled  children;  and  he  wrote  once: 

"It  is  a  fine  thing  to  have  boys  come  from 
South  Dakota.  The  esteemed  parents  cannot 
be  with  you  always,  and  the  old  gentleman 
cannot  pass  his  time  on  the  back  fence  criti- 
cizing the  work  and  guessing  at  the  combina- 
tion of  the  hash." 

Sometimes  he  had  a  startlingly  effective  way 
of  dealing  with  the  parents  who  were  too  much 
in  the  way.  One  obstreperous  mother  who  had 
been  packing  up  her  boy's  effects  at  the  end  of 
the  year,  invaded  the  Study  at  a  very  busy 
time,  carrying  a  large  military  helmet  which 
belonged  to  her  son,  and  inquired,  "  Professor, 
how  shall  I  get  this  helmet  home?"  He  re- 
plied blandly,  "  You  wear  it." 

In  matters  that  touched  reality  he  had  a 
swift  intuitive  sympathy  with  the  father's  and 
mother's  aims  and  hopes,  and  he  spared  no 
pains  to  create  between  himself  and  them  a  co- 
operation on  the  boy's  behalf  which  was  affec- 
tionate and  eager.  But  at  the  same  time  he 
was  definite  and  firm  in  his  requirement  that 


62        THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

parents  as  well  as  boys  should  conform  to  the 
disciplined  order  of  the  school.  They  should 
not  take  boys  away  for  week-end  holidays  or 
in  any  other  fashion  interrupt  the  regular  work 
and  life  except  in  agreement  with  perfectly 
definite  and  impartial  rules.  Nor  could  the 
wealth  or  influence  of  any  parent  avail  to  keep 
in  the  school  a  boy  whom  he  thought  to  be  an 
evil  influence.  In  his  first  term  at  The  Hill, 
when  there  might  have  seemed  urgent  need  of 
keeping  all  the  clientele  he  had,  he  dismissed 
the  son  of  a  man  high  in  the  nation's  life  be- 
cause he  thought  that  boy  to  be  undesirable, 
though  the  immediate  cause  of  offense  was 
one  which  a  man  of  less  courageously  clear 
purpose  might  have  overlooked.  Yet,  on  the 
other  hand, — as  some  of  the  coming  pages 
in  this  book  will  make  vividly  clear, — if  he 
believed  his  duty  to  the  school  at  large  allowed 
it,  there  was  nothing  that  he  rejoiced  in  more 
than  taking  an  unpromising  boy,  and  for  his 
own  sake,  and  for  his  parents'  sake,  making 
him  over  into  purposeful  manhood. 

For  the  first  seven  or  eight  years  after  he 
came  to  the  Hill  in  1876,  he  himself  taught  in 
the  classroom.  He  was  a  thorough  and  accu- 
rate scholar  in  Greek  and  Latin,  no  less  than 
in  French  and  German,  which  he  had  taught 
at  Lafayette.  With  the  impetuous  swiftness 
of  his  own  mind  ranging  freely  through  the 


BEGINNING  OF  THE  VENTURE      63 

literature  which  he  assigned  to  his  classes,  he 
was  often  inclined  to  be  unconscious  of  the 
tremendous  tasks  which  he  imposed  on  more 
plodding  intellects.  The  boys  regarded  his 
classes  with  a  mixture  of  admiration  and  ter- 
ror. He  drove  at  a  furious  pace  through  the 
hour,  and  boys  used  to  say  that  they  came  out 
of  his  classrooms  sometimes  dripping  with 
perspiration  from  the  strain  of  his  relentless 
questioning.  His  quick  temper  made  him  im- 
patient of  anything  that  suggested  indifference 
and  inattention,  and  in  this  he  was  no  regarder 
of  persons.  One  of  the  boys,  between  whom 
and  himself  there  was  a  very  special  love,  used 
to  be  sometimes  very  forgetful,  and  Meigs 
would  burst  out  upon  him :  "  You  are  too 
absent-minded.  You  will  never  be  worth  any- 
thing if  you  don't  remember!"  The  boy's  re- 
ply was  naively  genuine.  "Professor,  I  wish 
you  would  not  say  I  am  absent-minded,  my 
mind  is  always  somewhere";  and  he  used  to 
say,  "You  don't  know  how  harsh  Professor 
can  be."  But  notwithstanding  the  dread  the 
boys  often  had  of  the  severity  of  his  require- 
ments, they  could  not  but  be  proud  of  his  tre- 
mendous thoroughness,  and  the  enthusiasm 
for  his  work  which  lifted  it  up  for  himself,  and 
gradually  for  them  too,  into  a  kind  of  noble — 
even  if  often  austere — dignity.  They  knew 
that  he  was  impartial,  and  altogether  in  ear- 


64        THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

nest.  They  knew  that  he  scorned  above  every- 
thing meanness  and  deceit  and  shuffling  eva- 
sion, and  that  he  would  never  let  them  off 
until  he  knew  that  they  had  done  the  very  best 
they  could.  One  of  the  boys  has  left  this  com- 
ment on  the  kind  of  man  he  seemed  to  them 
to  be: 

"He  certainly  would  get  after  me  pretty 
hard,  but  then  I  deserved  it  every  time.  We 
fellows  all  knew  that  he  would  not  stand  any- 
thing that  was  mean  and  despicable,  and  knew 
how  severe  Professor  could  be  at  such  a  time, 
but  we  all  loved  him,  and  had  nothing  to  fear 
when  we  did  what  was  right." 

Another  wrote  in  the  retrospect  of  the  after 
time: 

"  It  is  full  thirty  years  since  I  came,  an  un- 
licked  cub  if  there  ever  was  one,  to  The  Hill. 
If  outward  things  are  the  realities,  it  was  a 
very  different  Hill  then  from  now.  There 
were  a  scant  forty  boys  for  a  school.  There 
was  a  small  and  rather  dilapidated  property. 

"I  think  we  were  a  pretty  rough  lot  of  ma- 
terial for  the  most  part,  in  those  very  early 
days.  School  standards  had  not  been  set  so 
high  anywhere  then  as,  through  John  Meigs 
and  his  few  peers,  they  have  been  set  since, — 
standards,  I  mean,  not  merely  of  scholarship, 
but  of  all  the  decencies  and  refinements  of  life 
and  conduct.  It  was  not  the  least  of  his 


BEGINNING  OF  THE  VENTURE      65 

achievements  that,  even  then,  with  his  smaller 
experience,  his  poorer  physical  equipment,  his 
discouragements  of  every  conceivable  sort,  he 
took  the  rough  material  and  fashioned  it  into 
the  semblance  of  a  man — gave  it  an  ideal,  a 
vision,  a  spirit." 

Nearly  all  the  letters  and  other  personal 
papers  of  John  Meigs  which  date  from  the 
early  years  of  his  work  at  The  Hill  were  de- 
stroyed in  the  great  fires  of  1884  and  1890 
(which  wrecked  the  material  fabric  of  the 
school  and  of  which  more  will  be  said  here- 
after), and  so  it  is  difficult  to  gather  much  that 
expresses  at  first  hand  his  own  thought  and 
opinions.  But  there  are  some  fragments  of 
different  dates  which  show  the  characteristic 
attitude  which  he  had  taken  toward  essential 
matters  from  the  start. 

In  his  direction  of  the  boys'  work,  he  was 
anxious  that  they  should  attain  excellence  for 
the  obvious  worth — in  the  first  place — of  that 
excellence  itself.  He  wanted  the  boys  to  be 
trained  well,  that  they  might  know  what  they 
were  supposed  to  know,  and  know  it  not  super- 
ficially, but  with  mastery.  He  rejoiced,  for 
the  sake  of  the  boys  themselves  and  for  the 
school,  when  they  succeeded  in  college.  "The 
college,"  he  writes,  "  is  what  the  boy  makes  it. 
It  can  give  you  as  large  and  broad  a  culture  as 
you  need  or  are  willing  to  strive  for."  And  in 


66        THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

another  letter  to  the  same  boy  at  college: 
"  You  don't  say  a  word  of  your  parents'  feeling 
about  your  success  in  taking  the  prizes :  don't 
you  think  I  might  be  interested  in  that?  Come 
now,  my  beloved  boy,  stifle  your  modesty  and 
tell  me  about  this  in  your  next,  like  a  man." 
Once  more  he  writes : 

"We  hear  gratifying  news  from  the  boys 
generally.  .  .  .  The  Yale  boys  are  doing  well 
in  their  work  and  will  probably  all  stand  in 
the  first  division,  which  is  to  be  organized 
this  week.  .  .  .  How  comes  on  our  work?  Can 
you  maintain  yourself  well  in  the  sophomore 
class?  If  not,  what  are  your  special  difficul- 
ties? Tell  me  a  little  about  the  length  of  les- 
sons, etc.,  etc.  Do  you  find  the  life  over-full 
of  distractions  and  temptations?  Write  to 
me,  my  dear  old  fellow,  straight  from  the 
heart." 

Between  the  lines,  in  these  brief  quotations 
one  may  clearly  read  the  other  interest  which 
was  deeper  than  the  pride  in  the  boy's  scho- 
lastic triumphs  in  their  academic  aspect.  He 
invested  work  with  a  moral  quality.  He 
thought  of  laziness  and  of  the  kind  of  failure 
which  ought  to  have  been  avoided  as  an  inward 
as  well  as  an  outward  reproach.  He  valued 
achievement  most  of  all  for  the  sake  of  the 
kind  of  character  which  the  winning  of  it 
necessitated.  It  was  because  of  this  that  he 


BEGINNING  OF  THE  VENTURE      67 

could  often  be  so  inflexibly  stern  in  the  require- 
ments which  he  held  to  in  his  dealing  with 
boys  in  the  school. 

He  writes  to  a  father  concerning  a  boy  who 
was  shirking  his  work,  and  trying  to  have  his 
father  take  him  out  of  school,  or  else  have  him 
dropped  into  lower  classes: 

"I  believe  not  in  the  'divine  right  of  kings' 
but  in  the  '  divine  right  of  fathers.' 

"I  should  instantly  take  this  ground  with 
F and  insist  upon  his  compliance  there- 
with before  any  other  question  should  be 
considered,  such,  for  instance,  as  his  going  to 
college. 

"  You  have,  whether  wisely  or  unwisely, 

placed  F here  for  the  school  year,  ending 

in  June,  not  for  so  long  a  time  as  he  can  keep  in 
good  temper  with  himself,  his  teachers  or  the 
boys.  .  .  .  Meanwhile,  you  expect,  and  will 
exact,  that  he  shall  give  you  the  respect  and 
deference  that  you  are  entitled  to  by  availing 
himself,  to  the  uttermost,  of  the  privileges  of 
education  that  you,  at  large  expense,  have 
most  seriously,  not  lightly,  been  generous 
enough  to  bestow. 

"  You  will  listen  to  no  departure  from  your 
maturely  determined  course  for  this  year,  and 
only  his  very  best  employment  of  his  time,  in 
the  very  best  spirit,  will  afford  him  any  reason- 
able ground  to  expect  your  consideration  of  his 
views  with  reference  to  the  following  years 
or  the  more  remote  future.  .  .  . 

"  F. 's  spirit  is  unpardonable.    He  should 


68        THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

learn  instantly  that  he  will  be  required  by 
you  to  apply  himself  to  his  work,  without 
reference  to  his  temper  toward  himself  or 
others,  and  to  do,  until  June,  just  what  other 
boys  are  required  to  do,  both  in  the  matter  of 
work  and  of  spirit.  He  has  simply  lashed 
himself  into  a  bad  mood,  and  would  have  us 
all  endure  his  unreasonable  spirit.  As  I  have 
said,  he  should  have  no  quarter  in  any  direc- 
tion until  he  has  shown  the  disposition  to 
honor  your  judgment  and  proper  authority  in 
placing  him  here  and,  by  his  submission  and 
diligence,  justified  your  listening  to  rational 
views,  affecting  his  immediate  or  remote  fu- 
ture. 

"  He  would  naturally  fall  into  a  lower  Latin 
class,  unless  he  has  made  up  the  Virgil  when 
he  returns,  or  manifests  an  energetic  determi- 
nation to  do  so  when  he  gets  back. 

"As  to  other  changes  of  his  schedule,  I 
should,  for  his  immediate  or  ultimate  good, 
decline  to  consider  them  now.  .  .  . 

"The  matter  of  studying  this  subject  or 
that  is  of  comparatively  little  moment  along- 
side of  his  simply  doing  as  well  as  he  can,  in 
the  best  spirit  possible,  his  duty.  ..." 

To  another  father  whose  boy  had  claimed 
at  school  that  his  efforts  to  learn  Greek 
brought  on  "the  family  heart-trouble,"  he 
writes,  in  the  first  place,  a  description  of  the 
boy's  health  which, — with  the  exception  of 
one  or  two  days'  indisposition,  seems  to  have 
been  sturdy  enough, — and  then,  after  detail- 


BEGINNING  OF  THE  VENTURE      69 

ing  the  boy's  actual  status  in  his  class,  he 
says:  "Of  course,  his  heart  disturbance  may 
have  resulted  from  this  '  Greek  nightmare/ 
.  .  .  but  I  am  inclined  to  think  that  his  heart 
has  been  weak  in  purpose,  rather  than  in 
power.  ...  I  will  have  a  talk  with  Herbert, 
and  try  to  re-inforce  your  own  counsels;  and 
hope  that  his  heart  and  head  will  combine  to 
reassure  you  as  to  his  purpose  and  power  to  do 
Greek  and  every  other  subject  well,  as  he  gives 
to  it  his  inheritance  of  power  and  pluck." 

Concerning  another  boy  who  wanted  to 
abandon  a  subject  which  he  did  not  like,  Meigs 
writes  to  the  parents : 

"The  question  has  been  transformed  from 
an  intellectual  to  a  moral  problem.  If  by 

shirking  and  dishonesty,  W ,  or  any  other 

boy,  is  to  secure  his  self-gratification  in  an  un- 
warrantable and  ignorant  prejudice  against 
any  subject  that  you  or  I  may  feel  it  desirable 
for  him  to  prosecute,  the  integrity  of  his  mind 
and  character  will  permanently  suffer.  As  the 
head  of  the  school,  responsible  for  the  moral 
and  mental  development  of  those  confided  to 
my  care,  I  should  feel  compelled  to  decline  to 
allow  the  boy  to  do  as  he  chooses." 

Into  his  -discipline  he  not  infrequently 
brought  the  power  of  a  sarcasm,  which  he 
could  employ  with  terrific  force.  When  he 
found  himself  faced  in  a  boy  with  shiftiness 


70        THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

or  insincerity  or  deliberate  shirking,  he  could 
hurl  against  him  a  scornful  invective  which 
withered  like  a  blast  of  lightning.  In  the  early 
days  of  the  school,  he  used  this  weapon  often. 
As  years  went  on,  and  his  own  nature  rounded 
into  a  larger  compassionateness,  he  used  it 
less;  but  boys  knew  what  it  meant,  and  when 
they  saw  his  brow  darken,  the  guilty  shrank. 

Such  was  the  sterner  side  of  his  attitude 
toward  the  boys  and  their  work.  But  it  was 
the  sternness,  not  of  harsh  indifference,  but  of 
a  high  insistence,  based  on  love.  He  could  be 
wonderfully  patient  with  the  shortcomings  or 
the  dullness  of  any  boy  whom  he  believed  to 
be  trying  to  do  his  best. 

One  of  the  nearest  friends  of  those  early 
years  recounts  the  following  memory: 

"The  first  time  I  came  to  visit  the  school 
was  about  the  time  there  were  twenty-five 
boys.  His  beautiful  mother  received  me  with 
great  welcome  because  we  were  so  identified 
with  his  interests,  and  I  well  remember  how  he 
came  to  me  and  said, '  You  love  boys  so,  I  want 
to  ask  you  something.  What  would  you  do  to 
a  boy  who  really  does  not  seem  to  be  able 
to  learn  ? '  I  said, '  Is  he  lazy,  or  is  he  a  shirk  ? ' 
and  he  said,  'Neither,  but  he  simply  cannot 
learn/  I  remember  talking  to  him  about  a  boy 
who  could  not  seem  to  learn  anything,  and 
different  professors  had  been  pretty  hard  on 
this  boy,  and  he  was  finally  sent  to  the  high- 


BEGINNING  OF  THE  VENTURE      71 

est  authority,  and  the  little  boy  said  to  him, 
'  Professor,  I  don't  know  why  you  are  all  so 
hard  on  me,  I  study  a  great  deal  harder  than 
anyone  else,  but  I  cannot  understand/  And  I 
'said  to  Mr.  Meigs, '  If  I  were  you  I  would  take 
such  a  boy  alone  and  help  him  study  his  les- 
sons for  the  next  day.'  I  also  said,  "Perhaps 
he  is  homesick;  if  I  were  you  I  would  go  in 
after  he  has  gone  to  bed  and  talk  to  him,'  which 
the  Professor  did,  with  the  greatest  tender- 
ness, and  when  I  saw  him  again  he  said,  '  You 
don't  know  what  results  I  got  from  that 
boy!'" 

And  in  two  of  his  own  letters  Meigs  re- 
counts two  incidents  which  show  on  the  one 
hand  the  feeling  in  the  boys'  hearts  that  they 
could  find  in  him  a  ready  and  sympathetic 
understanding  when  they  came  to  him  with 
their  difficulties,  and,  on  the  other  hand,  the 
glow  of  his  own  when  boys  did  come  to  him 
with  frank  confession  or  appeal. 

"  I  am  sure/'  he  writes,  to  her  who  was  after- 
ward to  be  his  wife,  "you  will  not  be  dis- 
pleased to  have  me  repeat  what  came  to  me 

as  from  H .  The  youth  was  talking  of 

his  peculiar  difficulties  of  temper,  of  training 
and  study.  He  said,  'I  never  before  really 
wanted  to  obey  any  man,  but  it  is  my  great- 
est happiness  to  do  just  what  the  Professor 
would  have  me  do.'  Well,  that  is  not  very 
much,  you  may  say,  and  it  is  not,  in  one  sense; 


72        THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

but  if  I  can  get  hold  of  one  boy's  heart  for  his 
real  abiding  welfare,  it  is  very  much  for  me  and 
for  him." 

And  in  a  letter  to  another  friend  he  refers  to 
a  conversation  they  had  had  "  as  to  the  neces- 
sary element  of  faith  and  courage  in  our  work 
here,  leaving  to  the  future  the  vindication  of 
our  efforts  which  might  fail  of  recognition  in 
the  stress  and  strain  of  daily  routine."  "  I 
think  it  was  within  twenty-four  hours  of  your 

visit,"  he  continues,  "that  B ,  whose  case 

you  will  recall,  came  to  me  entirely  spontane- 
ously and  opened  his  heart  to  me  absolutely 
and  utterly  as  to  his  recent  life  and  influence 
in  the  school,  .  .  .  deploring  his  faults,  and 
appealing  most  pathetically  for  the  sympathy 
and  co-operation  that  he  knew  he  would  re- 
ceive from  me.  Since  then  his  spirit  and  at- 
titude have  been  above  reproach,  or  even 
question,  and  he  has  come  heartily  and  hap- 
pily ...  to  such  an  appreciation  of  his  duty, 
and  his  privilege  too,  as  when  we  talked  to- 
gether seemed  most  remote." 

Another  quotation  from  a  letter,  though 
somewhat  obscure  in  part  of  its  reference,  is 
of  value  because  it  shows  how  merciful  he 
could  be  in  forgiveness,  and  libw  reverently 
regardful  he  was  of  the  dignity  of  a  boy's  own 
right  to  freedom  in  his  deepest  choices,  even 
when  he  felt  the  need  of  shaping  those  choices 


BEGINNING  OF  THE  VENTURE      73 

in  a  very  definite  way.  Evidently,  in  his 
thought,  the  wrong  that  this  boy  had  done 
came  from  some  influence  that  was  undermin- 
ing his  religious  loyalties. 

"  R reported  to  me  in  class  yesterday 

morning,"  he  writes,"  "  that  he  had  read  all  of 
his  review  in  Latin;  but  last  night,  before 
bedtime,  came  to  me  and  said,  '  Professor,  I 
told  you  a  lie  to-day,  and  I  can't  stand  it.  It's 
the  first  I  have  told  here,  and  I  feel  very  much 
distressed.'  I  talked  with  him  as  gently  as  I 
could,  and  then  .  .  .  tried  to  make  him  think 
of  what  he  was  doing  ...  in  subjecting  him- 
self to  an  influence  that  might  impair  his  rev- 
erence for  and  belief  in  the  faith  in  which  his 
mother  died  and  his  family  lived.  He  was 
honest  and  outspoken,  and  seemed  impressed 
by  my  presentation  of  the  subject  which  his, 
not  my,  conscience  must  decide." 

He  tells,  too,  in  one  of  his  letters,  of  an  inci- 
dent which  is  full  of  significance  as  showing 
the  way  in  which  he  sought  to  build  the  disci- 
pline of  the  school  upon  the  foundation  of  that 
which  was  deepest  and  finest  in  the  boys' 
souls : 

"Jan.  iQth,  1882. 

"You  will  be  interested  to  know  the  step  I 
have  taken  for,  and  with  the  boys.  I  have  ob- 
served with  keen  concern  the  disposition  of 
several  of  the  older  boys  to  tamper  with  stimu- 


74        THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

lants,  the  use  of  which,  in  the  form  of  beer  and 
light  wines,  is  very  prevalent  in  our  state. 
They  would  stop  at  the  inn,  a  mile  or  two  down 
the  road,  on  their  return  from  a  long  walk,  and 
drink  a  glass  of  beer  or  wine.  The  matter  was 
in  its  incipiency,  so  that  a  decided  stroke  and 
an  advanced  position  on  the  subject  of  liquor 
and  its  abuses  would  correct  the  matter,  and 
radically,  too.  Last  night  every  boy  in  the 
school  pledged  himself  to  abstain  totally  from 
the  use  of  stimulants  during  his  connection 
with  the  institution.  In  many  cases,  nine  out  of 
ten  boys  assumed  this  generous  responsibility 
for  the  sake  of  their  comrades,  and  I  venture 
the  assertion  that  the  trifling  evidence  by 
which  I  proceeded  has  worked  a  blessed  result 
in  the  immediate  effect  upon  one  or  two  boys 
whose  past,  prior  to  their  coming  here,  made 
this  lapse  easy  and  natural.  I  thank  God  that 
my  eyes  were  opened  so  soon,  and  that  we 
have  taken  the  high  ground  to  which  we  are 
forever  committed.  I  want  you  to  understand 
that  it  was  the  faintest  beginnings  of  the  evil 
that  I  detected  and  corrected,  I  prayerfully 
trust.  Many  of  the  boys  have  access  to  liquor 
in  their  own  homes,  but  the  ultimatum  on  the 
subject  has  been  pronounced  here  for  all  time. 
With  the  two  boys  who  originally  offended,  I 
know  I  have  begun  a  good  saving  work,  and 
under  God,  our  combined  influence  will  enable 
them  to  repair  the  injury  to  which  they  would 
or  might  have  drifted  in  the  course  of  months. 
At  any  rate,  whether  or  not  there  has  been 
any  real  injury,  it  is  a  good,  safe  position  for 
every  boy  to  take,  and  I  am  heartily  glad  that 


BEGINNING  OF  THE  VENTURE      75 

it  was  so  readily  assumed   by  all  for  each 
other's  sake." 

Later,  he  writes  again: 

"I  appreciate  your  feelings  with  reference 
to  my  boys  '  taking  the  pledge.'  There  was  no 
compulsion  about  it.  I  submitted  the  facts  to 
them  and  they  voluntarily  assumed  the  re- 
sponsibility which  I  said  to  them  could  be  no 
more  sacred  than  any  manly  and  worthy  reso- 
lution— by  God's  help — to  do  and  help  the 
right.  I  think  that  the  benefit  derived  from 
their  position  will  far  outweigh  any  possible 
violence  to  their  honor  by  the  breaking  of  any 
such  pledge.  I  tried  to  have  them  regard  it 
as  no  more  solemn — for  what  could  be — than  a 
sturdy,  prayerful  purpose — God  helping  them 
— to  do  the  right  for  the  right's  sake — and  from 
my  own  experience  with  boys  I  confidently 
expect  'a  lifting  up  of  the  hands  which  hang 
down,  and  of  the  feeble  knees/  God  help  them 
and  us  all  worthily  to  serve  them.  .  .  .  Thank 
God,  I  am  very  much  occupied  with  my  school 
— and  I  have  no  higher  ambition  than  to  do 
worthily  what  devolves  on  me  right  here  by 
God's  own  appointment.  .  .  .  This  afternoon, 
instead  of  the  regular  final  lessons,  I  shall  have 
a  plain  familiar  talk  with  the  boys  collectively, 
and  I  shall  try  to  tell  them  something  about 
thoughtfulness  as  a  duty,  as  a  basis  for  which 
Psalm  119  will  do  very  well,  'Wherewithal 
shall  a  young  man  cleanse  his  way.  By  tak- 
ing heed  thereto  according  to  Thy  word.'  " 


76        THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

One  of  the  men  who  was  a  boy  at  The  Hill 
in  the  days  of  which  we  are  thinking,  wrote  of 
John  Meigs: 

"He  could  be  stern.  He  could  be  witty  or 
broadly  humorous,  and  he  could  use  his  keen 
wit  for  the  discomfiture  of  rebellion  or  mis- 
behavior. Intellectual  and  spiritual  weapons 
were  all  he  needed  to  enforce  discipline.  I 
could  not  imagine  him  resorting  to  physical 
means.  But  his  greatest  weapon  was  his  kind- 
ness. How  well  I  recall  the  awful  day  when  I 
publicly  offended  his  high  sense  of  dignity. 
To  this  day  I  can  search  my  conscience  and 
protest  my  innocence  of  any  intent.  But  I 
had  offended,  and,  miserablest  of  sinners,  I 
was  bidden  to  the  Study.  Its  walls  were  so 
thick  that  the  entrance  was  an  embrasure  of 
at  least  three  feet.  Once  in  there,  and  the  door 
closed  behind  you,  your  chance  of  escape  was 
about  as  good,  in  your  excited  imagination,  as 
Rebecca's  in  Front  De  Boeuf's  dungeon. 

"Oh,  the  dear,  kind  man!  In  two  minutes, 
after  one  or  two  choking  sentences,  we  were  in 
each  other's  arms.  From  that  day  I  knew  the 
sweetness  of  forgiveness." 

And  from  another,  who  both  then  and  after- 
wards knew  John  Meigs  in  a  very  intimate 
and  loving  way,  comes  this  description,  which 
is  as  searching  as  it  is  true: 

"As  I  look  back  over  the  years,  my  personal 
memories  of  Professor  have  an  ever-increasing 


BEGINNING  OF  THE  VENTURE      77 

significance,  and  outweigh  all  that  I  ever  re- 
ceived from  him  in  the  way  of  correspondence. 
It  is  hard  to  put  these  things  into  words :  but  I 
will  try.  The  first  characteristic  that  im- 
pressed me  as  a  boy,  and  grew  stronger  with 
the  years,  was  the  tremendous  authority  of 
the  man.  One  could  not  doubt  the  sincerity 
of  his  appeal  for  truth,  honesty,  industry  and 
obedience.  It  was  impossible  to  shuffle  or 
make  excuse  for  one's  self;  the  only  alternative 
was  to  take  a  position  squarely  on  this  side  or 
on  that.  This  dominating  force  of  a  superior 
personality  is  often  offensive  to  weak  natures. 
It  forbids  them  to  do  wrong,  and  at  the  same 
time  persuades  them  that  they  are  right — a 
species  of  self-deception  to  which  boys  are 
more  prone  than  their  elders  imagine.  There- 
fore, when  Professor  won  the  unswerving 
loyalty  of  many,  he  failed  to  inspire  others 
with  more  than  a  wholesome  fear  of  the  rod. 
However,  that  many  of  these  very  fellows 
came  to  him  voluntarily  in  after  years,  showed 
that  he  had  been  a  power  in  their  lives,  in  spite 
of  the  strong  persuasion  of  their  worse  nature 
to  regard  him  as  a  tyrant. 

"  It  was  sometimes  hard  for  Professor  to 
reveal  the  gentle  and  generous  spirit  beneath 
his  sterner  aspect.  He  has  told  me  that  many 
a  time  his  heart  yearned  over  a  boy,  and  he 
knew  that  the  latter  wholly  misunderstood  his 
attitude,  yet  he  could  not  establish  the  point 
of  contact.  Sometimes  he  did  force  himself 
to  a  direct  attack  upon  the  boy's  reserve,  reti- 
cence or  dislike,  and  when  he  did,  seldom  did 
he  fail  to  give  that  fellow  a  wholly  different 


78        THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

view  of  all  things,  and  a  wonderful  revelation 
of  himself.  But  more  often  he  depended  upon 
something  in  the  way  of  an  outward  occur- 
rence on  which  to  base  his  appeal.  Here  he 
had  an  unerring  instinct  and  felt  himself  on 
sure  ground.  It  might  be  a  trivial  breach  of 
discipline,  a  classroom  incident,  an  athletic 
triumph  or  failure,  perhaps  a  moral  victory  or 
defeat,  which  the  boy  had  thought  known  only 
to  himself.  In  any  case,  it  led  to  a  realization 
on  the  boy's  part  that  Professor  was  the  keen 
observer  of  his  daily  living,  and  was  deeply 
interested  in  the  outcome.  His  manner  dif- 
fered greatly  with  the  individual  and  the  occa- 
sion. Sometimes  it  was  no  more  than  one  of 
those  wonderful  smiles,  or  a  hand  on  the  shoul- 
der, just  at  the  psychological  moment  when 
one  needed  to  hear  a  word  of  cheer  or  encour- 
agement or  sympathy.  And  the  action  was 
better  than  such  words;  it  spoke  each,  or  all, 
of  these  things,  as  the  need  might  be,  and  was 
so  interpreted :  more,  it  conveyed  an  intimation 
of  confidence  that  was  a  spur  to  pride. 

"  On  the  other  hand,  he  might  descend  like  a 
thunder-cloud,  sharp  and  sudden,  upon  a  sleep- 
ing conscience,  trusting  that  this  rude  awaken- 
ing was  the  only  thing  that  could  reach  the 
lethargic  soul,  already  labored  over  to  no  pur- 
pose by  other  masters.  Here  was  a  side  of 
Professor's  character  that  I  think  was  often 
misunderstood  by  masters  as  well  as  boys.  He 
knew  his  actions  were  at  times  wrongly  inter- 
preted, but  he  scorned  explanations.  If  he  felt 
that  he  had  been  right,  he  was  content  to  be 
misunderstood  and  to  trust  to  time  to  justify 


BEGINNING  OF  THE  VENTURE      79 

him.  Furthermore,  he  was  hampered  by  diffi- 
dence in  anything  that  seemed  to  concern  his 
personal  relations  to  another,  and  abhorred 
the  appearance  of  seeking  another's  confidence, 
support  or  affection.  He  has  often  said,  to  my 
knowledge,  that  this  feeling  made  it  very  hard 
for  him  to  speak  to  any  number  of  men  or  boys 
in  a  body,  unless  he  had  a  very  definite  text  or 
occasion.  He  had  so  much  in  his  heart  that  he 
should  have  wished  to  express,  yet  feared  to 
produce  the  wrong  impression.  The  evidence 
of  this  was  shown  in  two  ways  especially. 
One,  the  intense  devotion  he  showed  to  those 
fellows  whom  he  had  never  to  seek,  who  under- 
stood him  from  the  beginning,  who  feared  him 
not,  who  offered  their  affection  frankly  and 
without  reserve.  He  looked  for  them  at  re- 
unions, he  was  disappointed — few  knew  how 
much — when  one  or  another  failed  to  come. 
Blessed  be  they,  for,  even  if  unwittingly,  they 
did  much  to  make  his  life  a  happy  one.  The 
other  way  in  which  he  showed  how  deeply  he 
felt  the  personal  relations  of  life,  was  in  the 
instant  whole-hearted  forgiveness  he  always 
accorded  the  repentant.  It  seemed  as  if  he  was 
twice  glad:  both  that  the  boy  had  come  to  a 
nobler  view  of  things,  and  that  he  himself,  in 
doing  his  duty,  had  not  lost  a  friend. 

"  Many  times  I  have  been  thankful  that  my 
first  week  in  the  school  revealed  this  side  of  his 
nature  to  me.  It  was  for  what  to  me  seemed  a 
very  petty  thing  that  I  received  a  tremendous 
rebuke  from  him,  in  a  manner  that  seemed  to 
say  he  had  no  interest  in  me  as  a  human  being, 
but  was  merely  angry  at  my  actions.  But 


8o         THE  MASTER  OK  THE  HILL 

when  I  had  duly  considered  the  matter,  and 
realized  that  in  doing  what  I  had  done,  I  was 
doubtless  taking  the  first  step  on  a  very  easy 
and  dangerous  road,  I  felt  the  inclination  to  go 
and  thank  him  for  what  he  had  said,  but  I 
couldn't  quite  summon  up  courage. 

"  However,  and  this  is  the  most  significant 
fact  connected  with  that  otherwise  ordinary 
enough  occurrence — Professor  had  not  forgot- 
ten me  and  my  small  troubles !  In  some  mys- 
terious way  he  knew  that  I  was  ready  to  sur- 
render, and  made  it  as  easy  for  me  as  possible 
by  giving  me  a  friendly  nudge  in  the  ribs  as  he 
overtook  me  in  the  hall.  Somehow,  it  seemed 
that  I  quite  naturally  walked  on  into  the  Study 
with  him,  and  there  laid  a  real  foundation  for 
my  life." 

Even  in  these  years,  when  he  was  still  a 
very  young  man,  Meigs  was  beginning  to  be 
recognized  outside  the  immediate  circles  of 
The  Hill  for  the  power  as  a  schoolmaster 
that  he  was.  He  used  to  go  often  with  some 
friends  in  Brooklyn  to  hear  Henry  Ward 
Beecher,  and  one  Sunday,  after  Mr.  Beecher 
had  preached  a  wonderful  sermon,  Meigs  said, 
"I  must  go  and  thank  him  for  that  sermon." 
One  of  the  friends  who  knew  the  great 
preacher  pushed  Meigs  ahead,  and  as  he 
stepped  up  to  Mr.  Beecher,  he  said,  "  Mr. 
Beecher,  I  want  to  thank  you  for  that  sermon ; 
it  was  just  what  I  needed."  Mr.  Beecher 


BEGINNING  OF  THE  VENTURE      81 

looked  at  him  and  said,  "  I  don't  know 
your  common  name,  but  you're  the  boy- 
man." 

In  order,  however,  that  the  school  should  be 
efficient,  it  was  necessary  that  Meigs  should 
possess  something  besides  success  in  his  direct 
relationship  to  the  boys  as  teacher  and  master. 
He  had  to  prove  himself  able  to  organize  the 
life  of  the  school  so  that  it  should  be  adjusted 
with  sureness  to  his  desired  ends,  and  to  plan 
the  system  of  teaching  so  that  the  work  of  a 
number  of  men  should  be  combined  into  ef- 
ficiency. 

In  the  beginning,  when  the  school  was  small, 
and  equally  in  later  years,  when  the  school  was 
large,  the  clearness  and  decisiveness  of  his 
thinking  served  him  well.  He  was  never  a 
person  who  projected  general  plans  in  a  vague 
way,  and  left  them  for  the  general  drift  of 
things  to  carry  through.  He  held  plainly  in 
his  own  mind,  and  he  made  plain  to  others, 
what  he  expected,  and  as  a  result  both  masters 
and  boys  could  know  their  duties  with  pre- 
cision. 

The  order  of  the  school  day  and  of  the  school 
year  was  shaped  in  the  early  years  substan- 
tially as  it  remained  afterwards.  In  the  morn- 
ing, at  six  forty-five,  or  seven,  according  to 
the  time  of  year,  the  bells  rang  in  all  the  halls. 
Twenty-five  minutes  later,  the  bells  rang 


82        THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

again,  and  the  boys  on  each  hall  reported  to  the 
master  resident  there,  to  show  that  they  were 
ready  for  breakfast — for  which  they  assembled 
in  the  big  common  dining-room  of  the  school, 
three  minutes  later.  After  breakfast,  came 
prayers,  in  the  schoolroom,  and  the  beginning 
of  the  study  and  recitation  periods,  which 
lasted,  with  two  brief  recesses,  until  one  forty- 
five.  In  the  winter  time,  from  Christmas  until 
Easter,  the  morning  school  session  came  to 
an  end  at  twelve  forty-five,  and  the  last  two 
periods  began  at  four-thirty,  ending  at  six,  a 
quarter  of  an  hour  before  supper.  This  was  in 
order  that  the  boys  might  have  their  play- 
time all  in  the  hours  of  daylight,  before  the 
dusk  of  the  short  winter  days  came  on.  Sup- 
per was  at  six-fifteen,  and  after  it,  evening 
prayers  in  the  schoolroom.  Then  from  seven 
to  nine  came  a  period  of  two  hours  of  study. 
[At  this  time,  and  also  in  the  morning,  in  the 
hours  when  they  were  not  due  at  recitations, 
the  boys  studied  in  the  schoolroom,  under  the 
charge  of  a  master,  except  the  sixth  formers 
and  the  boys  who  had  attained  good  rank  in 
their  studies  and  had  no  demerits.  These  were 
allowed  to  study  in  their  own  rooms.]  From 
nine  to  nine  forty-five,  the  boys  could  visit  in 
each  other's  room,  on  the  same  hall,  or  in  the 
master's  room,  except  in  the  case  of  the  little 
boys,  who  went  to  bed  at  nine.  At  ten  o'clock, 


BEGINNING  OF  THE  VENTURE      83 

except  for  the  sixth  form,  lights  went  out,  and 
the  day  was  over. 

The  boys  were  held  responsible  for  all  the 
regimen  of  the  day.  They  must  be  where  they 
were  supposed  to  be,  and  there  on  time.  Dis- 
obedience of  the  rules,  or  lateness  anywhere, 
meant,  of  course,  demerits, — and  fifteen  de- 
merits meant  the  loss  of  privileges — the  neces- 
sity of  studying  in  the  schoolroom,  instead  of 
one's  own  room,  and  "  confinement  to  bounds  " 
of  the  school  grounds. 

In  the  classroom  work,  the  masters  were  re- 
quired to  mark  each  boy  each  week,  according 
to  the  rank  he  had  attained  in  the  average  of 
his  daily  recitations.  These  marks  were  the 
"lists"— A,  B,  C  and  D.  A  "D"  list  was  the 
dreaded  "  fourth."  Monday — instead  of  Satur- 
day— was  the  weekly  holiday  of  the  school,  but 
on  Monday,  immediately  after  the  morning 
prayers,  the  fourth  lists  were  read  out  by  the 
headmaster  in  the  schoolroom;  and  many  a 
boy,  uncertain  of  his  record  in  the  week  ending 
with  the  previous  Saturday,  listened  with 
bated  breath  as  the  ominous  list  of  names 
drew  near  in  its  alphabetical  descent  to  the 
point  at  which  he  might  hear  his  own.  "  John- 
son— Geometry,  Latin;  Lloyd — Greek" — the 
relentless  record  might  proceed; — and  Johnson 
and  Lloyd  would  turn  at  this  mournful  con- 
firmation of  what  they  had  probably  expected, 


84        THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

to  study  an  hour  and  a  half  on  each  subject, 
while  Jones,  who  had  waited  with  dread  for 
the  sound  of  his  name  in  between,  cracked  his 
heels  together  underneath  his  desk  to  know 
that  he  was  free. 

The  school  year  was  divided  into  three  terms 
— the  fall  term,  from  the  opening  in  Septem- 
ber until  the  beginning  of  Christmas  vacation; 
the  winter  term,  from  New  Year's  till  Easter 
time,  or  at  least  until  the  end  of  March — for 
Easter  might  fall  later;  and  the  spring  term, 
beginning  after  the  Easter  holiday  and  lasting 
till  the  close  of  school,  in  June.  At  the  end  of 
the  first  two  terms,  there  was  a  reckoning  like 
that  of  the  Monday  mornings,  only  on  a  larger 
scale.  There  would  be  examinations  for  every 
subject  and  every  class,  but  every  boy  who 
had  attained  a  certain  grade  of  scholarship  in 
any  class  for  the  whole  term  was  excused  from 
the  examination  in  that  subject.  This  meant 
that  the  more  industrious  boys  might  be  ex- 
cused from  every  examination,  and  start  for 
home  almost  a  week  earlier  than  their  less  for- 
tunate comrades,  who  were  ensnared  in  the 
toils  of  their  now  too-late-repented  delin- 
quencies. For  the  boys  who  could  not  start 
with  the  group  which  was  altogether  free, 
there  was  still  opportunity,  however,  for  hard 
work  to  be  immediately  rewarded.  If  a  boy 
passed  in  the  one  examination,  or  the  two,  or 


BEGINNING  OF  THE  VENTURE      85 

the  half-dozen,  for  which  he  was  held,  he  could 
leave  for  his  holidays  immediately  the  master 
in  the  last  subject  had  O.K.'d  his  paper.  If  a 
boy  failed,  he  was  given  a  condition  for  as 
many  hours  as  the  master  thought  he  needed 
to  study.  After  that  length  of  time  put  in 
work,  the  boy  was  given  another  examination. 
If  he  failed  again,  he  was  conditioned  again, 
and  so  it  might  be  that  some  boys  might  spend 
the  whole  week  after  the  departure  of  the  first 
boys  in  their  efforts  to  clear  their  conditions 
off,  until  the  day  when  for  everybody  the  vaca- 
tion began.  In  June,  all  the  boys,  without 
respect  to  previous  standing,  had  to  take  the 
final  examinations;  and  after  the  commence- 
ment, which  came  about  the  middle  of  the 
month,  the  fifth  and  sixth  form  boys  remained 
some  two  weeks  longer  for  special  work  in 
preparation  for  the  college  examinations, 
which  the  proctors  brought  down  from  Har- 
vard, Yale  and  Princeton  and  other  colleges 
late  in  June. 

In  this  arrangement  of  the  school  there  was, 
of  course,  nothing  outwardly  unusual.  Many 
other  schools  have  the  routine  of  the  days  and 
the  terms  ordered  in  the  same  general  way. 
But  the  thing  which  the  boys  at  The  Hill  came 
almost  at  once  to  feel  was  the  extraordinary 
degree  to  which  the  personality  of  John  Meigs 
pervaded  the  whole  system.  His  thorough- 


86        THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

ness,  his  decisiveness,  his  determination,  were 
all  through  it.  In  every  rule  and  requirement, 
the  boys  knew  that  they  faced  not  an  abstract 
code  which  they  might  respect  or  not  with  only 
perfunctory  consequences,  but  that  they  stood 
confronted  rather  by  the  spirit  of  a  man  who 
was  lifting  up  in  all  their  tasks  a  living  ideal 
which  he  willed  to  be  obeyed.  Many  a  boy 
who  on  Monday  morning  listened  to  Meigs' 
voice  reading  out  his  name  among  the  "  fourth 
lists,"  and  turned  to  take  out  his  books  for  the 
hours  of  his  penalty,  directed  against  the 
headmaster  personally  the  hot  resentment 
which  stirred  in  his  heart  against  the  discipline 
that  held  him  with  such  inexorable  grip.  Yet 
even  in  those  hours  the  same  boys  came  to 
learn  a  deeper  lesson  than  their  books  could 
teach — the  lesson  of  the  dignity  of  duty,  and 
the  sureness  of  that  penalty  which  sooner  or 
later  in  this  world  must  overtake  unfaithful- 
ness; and  learning  it,  they  began  to  under- 
stand that  it  was  through  John  Meigs  that  it 
had  come  home  to  them,  and  in  John  Meigs 
that  it  was  made  real. 

In  his  relationship  with  the  masters,  Meigs 
could  seem  often  to  show  the  same  kind  of 
rigorous  insistence  which,  on  their  plane,  he 
showed  to  the  boys.  He  had  unyielding 
standards  of  the  quality  of  work  which  ought 
to  be  done,  and  of  the  earnestness  which  ought 


BEGINNING  OF  THE  VENTURE      87 

to  be  put  into  it.  His  own  enthusiasm  made 
him  give  himself  unsparingly  to  what  he  him- 
self had  to  do. 

"This  morning  reveals  the  first  snow  of 
winter,"  he  writes  in  one  of  his  letters,  "and  I 
am  rejoiced  to  see  it,  for  it  means  for  me  a 
quickening  of  working  forces;  I  can  accom- 
plish twice  as  much  during  the  four  months  of 
winter  as  I  can  hope  to  in  any  other  similar 
period  of  the  year.  I  really  wish  that  my  work 
here  might  go  on  unremittingly  for  months  to 
come."  As  a  matter  of  fact,  he  worked  so  hard 
that  he  was  often  very  tired  when  vacation 
came,  and  thoroughly  glad  to  welcome  it;  but 
he  forgot  this  when  he  was  in  the  midst  of  the 
exhilarating  pressure  of  the  work  itself;  and 
as  a  consequence, — though  without  the  least 
intention  of  being  unduly  exacting, — he  was 
apt  to  key  the  work  up  for  others,  as  well 
as  for  himself,  to  a  point  at  which  men 
who  did  not  try  to  understand  his  spirit 
and  purpose  might  have  begun  inwardly  to 
complain. 

In  the  early  days  of  his  headmastership, 
much  more  than  in  the  later  ones,  there  was 
room  for  the  men  who  served  under  him  to 
feel  that  in  the  tremendous  intensity  of  his  con- 
centration upon  the  work  which  he  wanted 
to  get  done,  he  sometimes  set  requirements 
which,  from  a  more  inclusive  point  of  view, 


88        THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

seemed  unreasonable.  For  instance,  it  was  his 
custom  to  have  the  masters,  at  the  close  of  the 
school  hours  every  Saturday,  make  up  their 
lists  as  to  the  boys'  standing,  in  order  that  all 
these  might  come  in  for  his  own  record  and 
inspection.  He  would  announce  that  the  mas- 
ters would  meet  "immediately  after  dinner," 
and  at  that  time  he  expected  every  man  to  be 
prepared  to  answer,  with  no  uncertainty,  the 
standing  of  every  boy  in  his  division.  As  the 
week's  final  marks  could  not  be  made  up  until 
after  the  classes  on  Saturday,  this  meant  that 
the  men  must  have  the  record  of  what  they 
considered  the  boys  to  have  deserved  on  the 
previous  day  clear  in  their  minds,  and  that 
they  must  work  with  speed  and  promptness  to 
finish  their  reports  in  the  few  minutes  between 
the  ending  of  the  last  class  and  dinner.  The 
worst  of  the  matter  was  that  the  necessity  of 
being  ready  "  immediately  after  dinner  "  some- 
times seemed  to  involve  a  hardship  which  was 
not  necessary.  If  Dr.  Meigs  was  not  himself 
interrupted  by  an  unavoidable  cause,  his  "  im- 
mediately" meant  exactly  what  the  word  said; 
and  because  the  men  knew  that,  they  had  to  be 
ready — even  though  this  involved  snatching  a 
very  hasty  dinner  to  gain  time  for  their  figur- 
ing, or,  in  the  case  of  one  married  master,  who 
lived  just  outside  the  school  grounds,  fre- 
quently missing  dinner  altogether.  Sometimes 


BEGINNING  OF  THE  VENTURE      89 

when  they  hurried  thus,  the  "immediately 
after  dinner"  turned  out  to  be  some  fifteen  or 
twenty  minutes  later  than  usual,  because  Dr. 
Meigs  was  kept  at  dinner  by  the  necessity  of 
talking  to  a  visitor  at  his  table.  To  half- 
hungry  men,  the  authority  that  thus  held  them 
to  its  bidding  may  have  seemed  arbitrary,  and 
no  doubt  it  did. 

What  these  meetings  of  the  masters  were  is 
well  told  by  Mr.  George  Q.  Sheppard,  who 
came  to  The  Hill  in  the  seventh  year  of  the 
school,  to  become,  as  time  went  on,  one  of  the 
men  on  whom  John  Meigs  most  depended. 

"Already  in  1883  no  one  could  fail  to  be  im- 
pressed by  the  fact  that  The  Hill  School  was 
Professor's  life  work,  into  which  he  was  throw- 
ing all  his  energy,  for  which  he  had  the  high- 
est ideals  of  industry  in  -work  and  play,  of 
sound  scholarship,  of  true  purpose  in  masters 
and  boys.  Prompt,  alert,  indefatigable  him- 
self, he  demanded  the  same  of  all  about  him. 

"  The  first  teachers'  meeting  '  directly  after 
dinner'  the  first  Saturday,  the  School  having 
opened  the  previous  Wednesday,  was  an 
awakening  to  the  three  teachers  of  the  faculty, 
all  new  that  year.  'Directly  after  dinner' 
meant  when  the  Professor  arose  from  the  table 
after  the  midday  meal.  We  had  been  told  in 
the  dining-room  as  we  were  at  dinner  that  the 
meeting  would  be  held.  Without  a  word  of 
explanation  he  opened  the  big  record  book  and 
began  to  call  the  roll  of  the  boys  alphabetically, 


90        THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

expecting  us  instantly  to  report  upon  each  boy 
whom  we  had  taught  during  the  half  week, 
stating  that  he  had  made  A,  B,  C,  or  D  for 
the  week,  while  he  recorded  our  reports.  Na- 
turally there  was  hesitation  in  answering,  since 
we  had  not  been  informed  previously  of  the 
demand  to  be  made  upon  us.  Having  finished 
the  roll  with  some  show  of  annoyance  at  our 
delays,  he  said, '  Gentlemen,  we  shall  have  such 
a  meeting  directly  after  dinner  each  Satur- 
day, and  you  are  to  come  prepared  to  report 
promptly  on  each  of  your  boys.  The  meeting 
should  not  occupy  more  than  twenty  minutes.' 
There  were  sixty  boys  upon  the  roll;  each  of 
us,  including  the  Professor,  taught  twenty-five 
recitations  per  week,  generally  teaching  the 
last  period  Saturday,  between  which  and  din- 
ner there  was  given  ten  minutes  for  prepara- 
tion for  dinner;  yet  we  were  to  be  prepared 
to  report  on  each  boy  directly  after  dinner. 
The  noteworthy  point  is  that  we  did  it.  How 
often  have  I  visited  schools  which  needed  a 
John  Meigs  to  wake  up  masters  and  boys  and 
show,  them  what  they  could  do,  a  point  on 
which  they  seemed  absolutely  ignorant.  Paul 
found  out, '  I  can  do  all  things/  What  a  valu- 
able lesson  for  any  man  or  boy,  a  lesson,  alas, 
which  few  have  learned,  but  which  men  and 
boys  always  learned  from  John  Meigs. 

"This  type  of  meeting  continued  'directly 
after  dinner '  on  Saturday  until  the  roll  became 
so  long  and  the  masters  so  many  that  the  re- 
sults could  not  be  properly  recorded  even  by 
the  Professor,  when  reports  in  writing  upon 
printed  rolls  of  the  School,  to  be  handed  in 


BEGINNING  OF  THE  VENTURE      91 

before  four  o'clock  Saturday  afternoons  be- 
came the  rule,  as  it  is  to-day." 

From  this  story  there  comes  an  impression 
of  the  John  Meigs  of  the  school's  early  years 
which  is  true,  and  yet  which  needs  to  be  shaped 
by  a  balanced  understanding  lest  it  be  unjust. 
In  the  outward  aspects  of  his  government, 
there  was  reason  sometimes  to  call  him  arbi- 
trary. He  was  strong  and  confident  and  mas- 
terful, and  he  established  requirements  which, 
even  when  they  were  difficult,  he  would  not 
suffer  to  be  disobeyed.  But  the  fact  that  needs 
to  be  remembered  is  this — that  his  authority 
was  never  a  petty  self-assertion  for  its  own 
sake.  If  he  seemed  sometimes  not  to  spare 
others,  neither  did  he  spare  himself.  When 
he  set  a  standard  which  was  to  be  conformed 
to,  he  did  not  do  it  for  his  own  convenience, 
but  as  part  of  his  imperious  sense  of  the  de- 
mands of  the  most  efficient  work.  His  decrees 
were  not  shaped  by  an  infallible  wisdom,  but 
they  always  were  forged  out  of  a  fine  honesty, 
and  tried  by  an  unflinching  loyalty  to  purposes 
which  were  so  commanding  in  his  mind  that 
they  outweighed  sometimes  his  thought  of  the 
convenience  of  others,  just  as  they  outweighed 
his  thought  of  his  own. 

As  the  years  went  on,  the  gentleness  and 
consideration,  which  were  always  so  beautiful 


92        THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

a  part  of  his  deepest  nature,  more  and  more 
spread  themselves  through  all  his  outward  re- 
lationships. He  could  still  be  authoritative 
and  commanding,  but  he  more  consciously  and 
completely  made  it  evident  that  not  self-will, 
but  his  own  submission  to  the  great  ideals  of 
the  school,  into  the  obedience  of  which  he 
would  have  them  gathered  with  himself  in 
noble  fellowship,  governed  all  his  attitude 
toward  the  men  who  served  with  him. 

One  young  teacher  who  came  to  The  Hill 
straight  from  college  spent  three  years  in  the 
school,  and  in  that  time  made  a  notable  suc- 
cess of  his  work.  Dr.  Meigs  recognized  this  so 
thoroughly  that  he  urged  him  to  throw  in  his 
lot  permanently  with  the  school,  and  promised 
him  enlarged  responsibilities  and  an  oppor- 
tunity which  the  younger  man  knew  he  could 
not  equal  elsewhere.  But  he  left  The  Hill,  say- 
ing to  himself  as  the  final  reason,  "John  Meigs 
is  so  forceful  and  overmastering,  while  I  am 
naturally  diffident,  that  I  feel  sure  he  will  ex- 
pand in  character  while  I  should  shrink." 

But  another  member  of  his  staff  said: 

"Other  men  felt  differently,  remained,  and 
have  been  given  ample  opportunity  to  express 
themselves.  Professor  demanded  of  every 
man  undivided  loyalty  to  the  ideals  of  the 
school,  all  his  time  and  energy  in  the  activities 
of  the  school  during  the  short  school  year,  a 


BEGINNING  OF  THE  VENTURE      93 

high  measure  of  success  in  dealing  with  the 
boys  in  the  whole  circle  of  their  lives  as  well  as 
in  the  classroom,  instant  and  whole-hearted 
obedience  of  all  decisions,  yet  he  was  most 
careful  not  to  strangle  individual  initiative, 
sought  counsel  and  advice  from  the  teachers, 
and  constantly  gave  enlarged  responsibilities 
and  duties  to  men  who  seemed  fitted  to  per- 
form them.  He  cannot  be  understood  without 
the  knowledge  that  his  consuming  ambition 
was  not  himself  but  the  school  and  its  success 
in  an  idealized  meaning  of  the  word  success." 

Another  of  the  masters  who  knew  him  best, 
Mr.  Arthur  Judson,  wrote  of  him: 

"After  much  thought,  and  after  many  talks 
with  Professor  on  problems  of  personality  that 
beset  the  school,  I  came  to  certain  conclusions 
which  were  very  helpful  to  me.  In  the  first 
place,  I  believe  that  his  ideal  of  organization 
was  the  military  one,  not  that  of  the  tyrant, 
whose  privates,  like  the  Persians  of  old,  are 
driven  to  battle  with  the  lash,  but  the  army 
of  liberation,  inspired  by  the  great  Cause, 
honoring  obedience  as  the  law  of  salvation.  In 
this,  the  assumption  of  responsibility  was  as 
important  as  the  obedience  to  the  superior. 
Each  man's  place  and  his  duty  was  perfectly 
clear;  he  did  not  understand  how  any  right- 
minded  man  could  fail  to  perceive  it.  Our  re- 
sponsibility to  the  boys  never  ceased.  If  there 
were  signs  of  insubordination,  the  man  was 
there,  he  was  clothed  with  full  authority,  it 


94        THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

was  up  to  him  to  act  with  promptness  and 
decision.  Whatever  was  accepted  as  school 
policy  was  to  be  carried  out  without  deference 
to  some  individual's  likes  or  dislikes.  But  one 
master  was  not  to  be  commanded  or  bullied  by 
another.  There  was  no  question  of  prece- 
dence; as  men,  the  youngest  was  on  a  par 
with  the  oldest.  This  matter  of  obedience 
was  an  impersonal  one,  it  was  obedience  to 
the  established  law  of  The  Hill,  not  to  John 
Meigs,  though  the  definite  instruction  might 
proceed  from  his  mouth. 

"  New  members  of  the  force  were  to  be  given 
a  reasonable  time  in  which  to  '  learn  the  ropes/ 
as  the  saying  is.  After  that,  they  must  stand 
on  their  own  feet.  They  were  supposed  to 
have  certain  qualifications  as  a  sine  qua  non. 
Beyond  that,  all  depended  upon  the  spirit  each 
put  in  his  work.  Professor  once  said  to  me 
something  to  the  following  effect:  'How  can 
any  right-minded  man  fail  to  see  the  greatness 
of  the  opportunity,  the  importance  of  the  work, 
that  should  inspire  us  to  act  in  unison?  How 
can  he  rebel  against  the  safeguards  that  we 
must  throw  around  these  boys?  He  should 
not  merely  be  willing  to  observe  discipline,  he 
should  be  zealous  that  no  least  act  of  his  should 
violate  the  regulations  of  the  community  and 
embarrass  the  efforts  of  everyone  of  the  rest 
of  us.  It  is  astounding  [he  used  that  very 
word]  that  any  man  here  should  be  afraid  to 
face  a  set  of  boys,  when  every  advantage  is 
on  the  side  of  the  man/ 

"  These  were  not  his  exact  words,  of  course, 
but  pretty  nearly  what  he  said.  At  another 


X  t 


< 


UH     < 


BEGINNING  OF  THE  VENTURE      95 

time  he  said  to  me,  'We  are  not  running  a 
school  for  masters,  but  for  boys.  If  we  have 
to  spend  all  our  efforts  in  educating  masters 
to  their  duty,  we'll  land  in  imbecility ! ' ' 

Most  of  the  men  who  taught  at  The  Hill 
understood  his  spirit.  It  was  always  his  desire 
and  policy  to  attach  the  men  who  had  proved 
their  worth  permanently  to  the  school,  and 
thus  build  up  a  group  of  associates  whose  lives, 
like  his  own,  were  wholly  identified  with  the 
work.  These  men  admired  him,  loved  him  and 
rejoiced  to  serve  at  his  side.  And  among  the 
whole  group  of  masters  he  was  able  to  create 
almost  always  a  spirit  of  loyal  and  happy  co- 
operation. In  such  of  his  letters  as  happen 
to  have  been  preserved  from  the  first  decade 
of  the  life  at  the  school,  the  expression  of  his 
satisfaction  frequently  recurs: 

In  1881  he  writes:  "In  a  fortnight  the  vaca- 
tion begins,  and  I  shall  have  the  most  satisfac- 
tory retrospect  I  have  ever  honestly  indulged 
in.  That  there  is  so  gratifying  and  cordial  a 
feeling  between  boys  and  teachers  and  the 
lower  constituents,  is  all  I  can  ask,  as  far  as 
generous  work  and  spirit  are  concerned." 

Early  in  1882,  after  the  Christmas  vacation, 
he  writes :  "  Everything  is  cheery  and  hopeful. 
A has  decided  to  remain;  that  he  has  re- 
sisted the  urgency  of  other  institutions  is  most 
gratifying.  He  has  said  such  satisfying  things 


96        THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

about  his  association  with  me  for  six  years, 
that  I  best  epitomize  them  in  the  mere  state- 
ment that  he  had  declined  the  other  proposi- 
tions from  the  other  schools  that  sought  his 
splendid  services.  Our  conference  furnished 
me  an  opportunity  of  expressing  my  appre- 
ciation of  his  own  work." 

And  again :  "  It  is  a  deep  pleasure  to  tell  you 
of  the  gratifying  progress  of  the  school.  I 
never  felt  so  strong  and  ardent  a  desire  to 
vindicate  the  generous  confidence  of  its  friends, 
nor  have  I  ever  known  so  assuring  prospects 
of  its  growth  within  and  without.  Such  help- 
ers as  I  have  had  the  singular  fortune  to  get 
and  maintain  furnish  the  explanation  of  it 
all." 

These  quotations  are  from  letters  written 
to  his  wife-to-be.  In  the  fall  of  1880,  he  had 
gone  to  Durham,  Pennsylvania,  to  visit  his 
beloved  friends,  the  Raymonds,  and  there  he 
had  met  Miss  Marion  Butler,  of  New  York. 
They  became  engaged  in  1881.  In  1881  and 
1882,  Miss  Butler  was  studying  abroad,  and 
was  in  Berlin  in  the  winter  of  1882.  A  little 
before  the  close  of  school  in  that  year,  John 
Meigs  left  The  Hill  to  go  across  the  seas  for 
his  bride. 

From  Mrs.  Drown — the  same  Mrs.  Drown 
who  knew  him  when  he  was  at  Lafayette — 
comes  this  familiar  reminiscence  of  that  time: 


BEGINNING  OF  THE  VENTURE      97 

''The  summer  of  his  marriage  found  us  on 
the  ocean  together,  on  the  way  to  Berlin.  By 
a  series  of  misadventures,  after  arranging  for 
a  most  comfortable  crossing,  we  were  changed 
from  steamer  to  steamer,  until  finally  we  were 
forced  to  cross  in  the  'City  of  Montreal/  an 
old,  slow  steamer,  sorely  trying  the  patience 
of  our  expectant  bridegroom.  The  voyage 
proved  cold  and  stormy,  and  John  was  not  a 
good  sailor,  but  we  still  managed  to  get  much 
amusement  out  of  the  passengers  on  deck,  giv- 
ing them  fictitious  names  and  characteristics. 
One,  a  little  priest,  who  walked  the  deck  with 
a  tall  brother,  we  found  was  a  high-placed 
church  official,  on  a  mission  to  the  Pope.  He 
was  so  gentle  and  amiable  looking,  we  called 
him  the  '  little  dear/  and  years  afterwards  John 
loved  to  allude  to  him.  When  Queenstown 
was  reached,  we  bade  each  other  a  temporary 
farewell  until  we  met  again  in  Berlin,  where 
opened  for  him  the  great,  supreme  blessing  of 
his  life.  On  meeting  us  at  the  station,  he 
briefly  summed  up  his  disapproval  of  German 
red  tape  and  officialdom,  which  fretted  his 
active,  impulsive  spirit,  and  when  we  were 
mounting  in  the  elevator  in  the  hotel,  he  called 
out  to  the  operator, '  Oh,  do  put  in  another  tea- 
spoonful  of  water/  so  slow  it  seemed  to  us  after 
our  swift  American  methods." 

When  this  old  friend  thus  called  his  mar- 
riage the  "great,  supreme  blessing  of  his  life," 
she  wrote  no  mere  phrase,  but  summed  up  the 
high  and  beautiful  truth.  To  the  woman 


9 8        THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

whom  he  married,  more  than  to  any  other 
human  gift  which  came  to  him,  John  Meigs 
owed  the  stimulus  of  those  gentler  and  diviner 
elements  which  shaped  the  original  strength 
of  his  nature  into  the  large  and  rounded  beauty 
of  the  later  years.  Of  her,  since  her  eyes  will 
read  these  pages,  it  is  not  permitted  with  full- 
ness here  to  speak.  When  she  came  to  The 
Hill,  Mrs.  Meigs  the  elder  was  still  living,  and 
so  she  was  called  "Mrs.  John."  As  "Mrs. 
John,"  she  has  laid  her  touch,  like  an  accolade, 
upon  the  heedless  spirit  of  many  a  Hill  School 
boy,  and  there  are  those  who  work  with  wor- 
thier manhood  at  their  tasks  to-day,  because 
in  unforgotten  years  the  knightliness  which 
slumbered  deep  within  them  rose  in  the  thrill 
of  its  first  awed  recognition  to  meet  the  loving 
challenge  of  her  eyes.  What  she  has  meant  to 
The  Hill  School,  only  the  reckoning  of  many 
lives  can  tell.  What  she  meant  to  John  Meigs, 
he  only  could  express  whose  hands  should  hold 
those  uncreated  balances  in  which  the  values  of 
a  soul  are  weighed. 

It  had  always  been  John  Meigs'  ideal  to  in- 
vest the  school  as  truly  as  possible  with  the 
atmosphere  of  a  home.  The  buildings,  and  all 
the  physical  conditions  of  the  boys'  life,  were 
shaped  to  express  this  thought.  The  boys  all 
came  at  meal  times  into  the  one  dining-room, 
where  the  whole  family  assembled,  headmaster 


BEGINNING  OF  THE  VENTURE      99 

and  the  other  masters,  and  all  the  ladies  of  the 
household,  too;  and  they  all  bowed  for  the 
one  grace  as  they  sat  down  together.  The 
masters  lived  on  the  different  halls,  in  rooms 
surrounded  by  the  boys'  rooms,  and  the  head- 
master's house  was  a  part  of,  and  opened  di- 
rectly into,  the  buildings  where  the  boys  were. 
Whenever  the  boys  wanted  to  talk  with  the 
headmaster  himself,  they  had  only  to  open  the 
door  that  led  into  the  passage  outside  his  Study, 
and  knock  at  his  Study  door.  In  particular 
ways,  when  the  school  was  small,  he  used  to 
be  at  pains  to  cultivate  the  informal  and  affec- 
tionate relationships  between  the  boys  and 
himself. 

In  a  letter  of  1881  he  writes: 

"  I  have  just  finished  reading  to  the  younger 
boys,  and  as  the  little  fellows  left  me,  so  cor- 
dially grateful  ...  the  blessed  possibilities  of 
my  work  and  its  influence  occurred  to  my  mind 
anew  to  strengthen  and  stimulate  me.  .  .  .  We 
had  our  usual  gathering  on  Friday  evening 
.  .  .  and  sang  a  number  of  solos  and  choruses. 
S played  on  his  violin,  and  L accom- 
panied us  on  the  piano,  and  with  this  spirited 
chorus,  we  made  havoc  of  aesthetics  in  true 
dragoon  style.  To  one  unacquainted  with  the 
true  nature  of  boyhood,  these  familiar  gather- 
ings might  seem  profitless  enough,  but  it  is 
wonderful  to  observe  their  humanizing  influ- 
ence upon  the  least  promising.  I  should  as 


ioo      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

lieve  give  up  church  of  a  Sunday  evening,  as 
far  as  the  peculiar  hold  I  get  on  certain  char- 
acters is  involved,  and  that  too  for  their  real 
moral  good,  as  renounce  these  informal  eve- 
nings with  my  boys." 

He  could  enter  heartily,  too,  into  the  boys' 
fun.  In  the  winter  of  1882  he  writes:  "A 
very  heavy  fall  of  snow  has  brought  the  finest 
sleighing  you  could  imagine,  and  the  air  is 
resonant  every  minute  with  merry  bells  and 
merrier  laughter.  .  .  .  The  boys  are  in  high 
glee,  and  yesterday  afternoon  I  sent  as  many 
of  them  out  riding  as  our  vehicles  would  carry. 
To-morrow  I  shall  take  them  all  in  large  omni- 
bus sleighs  for  a  long  drive,  returning  by  eight 
or  nine  in  the  evening  to  a  hot  supper." 

In  another  letter,  he  tells  how  he  is  about  to 
go  out  coasting  with  the  boys,  and  adds,  "  The 
boys  are  in  such  fine  trim,  in  spirit  and  work — 
it  is  a  great  comfort  to  have  them  feel  and 
act  so." 

The  influence  of  John  Meigs'  mother  went 
hand  in  hand  with  his  to  make  the  boys  feel 
toward  The  Hill  the  home-love.  His  sister, 
too,  Miss  Elizabeth,  played  a  great  part  in  the 
life  of  the  school.  To  her  reception-room,  at 
the  corner  where  the  family  house  faced  the 
school  quadrangle,  masters  and  boys  alike 
were  welcome  in  the  afternoons  for  tea.  When 
the  new  Mrs.  Meigs  came,  her  spirit  was  added 


BEGINNING  OF  THE  VENTURE     101 

to  that  of  the  mother  and  sister  to  help  the 
man  who  bore  the  responsibility  of  the  school 
to  make  it  what  his  heart  desired. 

And  from  the  first  years  onward,  he  did 
make  it  a  place  to  which  the  love  of  his  boys 
turned  with  an  ever-deepening  faithfulness. 
Instinctively,  the  school  came  to  seem  to  them 
the  embodiment  of  his  personality.  Their  best 
memories  of  it  were  identified  with  memories 
of  him. 

In  after  years,  one  man,  who  was  a  boy  of 
those  early  years,  poured  out  his  heart: 

"The  old  boys  only  can  know  what  Pro- 
fessor really  meant  to  us,  in  those  days  when 
he  was  more  closely  in  touch  with  each  boy. 
Don't  you  remember  the  chafing-dish  parties 
and  the  Sunday  night  reading  hour  in  his 
study?  Apples  for  all  of  us  who  lived  on  the 
second  hall,  and  he  would  read — pausing  every 
how  and  then  to  ask  some  pertinent  question 
of  some  restless  spirit. 

"  I  am  perhaps  the  last  one  in  the  world  to 
say  anything  about  influences — but  Professor 
had  a  big  one  on  me;  it  is  being  realized  the 
more  as  I  grow  older. 

"  He  used  to  be  the  stern  headmaster,  but 
you  forget  that,  and  only  recall  that,  as  he  did, 
his  boys  do,  in  little  ways.  Not  a  Christmas 
has  gone  by  since  I  left  The  Hill,  that  I  haven't 
read  the  *  Christmas  Carol/  by  Dickens — he 
read  it  to  us  just  before  Christmas  vacation, 
you  know.  This  year  I  had  my  father  sit  out- 


102      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

side  the  door  and  read  it,  as  I  was  in  quarantine 
with  diphtheria;  and  as  I  listened,  I  kept  think- 
ing of  the  school,  and  of  my  four  years  there, 
and  then  I  could  hear,  'God  bless  the  old  fel- 
lows/ It  was  as  real  as  though  I  were  back 
at  prayers. 

"  Oh,  if  we  only  realized,  if  we  but  could  be 
made  to  realize,  what  those  years  are  to  the 
whole  life,  who  of  us  wouldn't  go  back  and  re- 
live them,  and  try  to  make  them  count  as  Pro- 
fessor desired  that  they  count ! " 

And  another  writes: 

"The  real  picture  of  the  Professor,  which  al- 
ways comes  clear  and  distinct  from  the  memo- 
ries of  the  school  days  of  one  of  the  'Old 
Boys/  is  as  he  sat  at  his  desk  in  the  old  school- 
room, of  a  Sunday  evening,  at  song  service, 
and  the  hymn  I  always  associate  with  that 
picture  is  'Ein'  Feste  Burg/  Eighteen  or 
twenty  years  have  not  dimmed  it  in  the  least. 
That  is  what  he  looked  and  what  he  was — a 
firm,  strong,  kindly,  helpful  citadel.  There 
seemed  to  be  something  in  Professor's  face  as 
he  came  down  the  aisle  at  the  close  of  those 
song  services  on  Sunday  nights,  that  I  never 
quite  caught  at  any  other  time — a  something 
words  will  not  tell." 

Yet  if  any  words  would  tell  it,  and  the  secret 
of  it,  perhaps  they  would  be  such  as  these  from 
one  of  his  letters  in  the  early  eighties: 


BEGINNING  OF  THE  VENTURE     103 

"  I  had  my  usual  talk  with  the  boys  before 
church.  I  do  want  to  become  more  in  my  own 
heart,  and  more  to  them,  in  these  vital  matters 
that  are  their  life  and  hope.  God  grant  me 
grace  and  strength,  and  make  me  worthier  in 
all  these  things." 


CHAPTER  V 

LIGHTS  AND  SHADOWS 

Burning  of  the  School  in  1884— The  School  Rebuilt— It  Passes 
Fully  into  John  Meigs'  Control— Birth  of  His  Children,  and  His 
Companionship  with  Them — Travels  Abroad,  and  Letters  Home— 
The  Second  Fire  in  1890— The  Rebuilding  of  the  School— Meigs' 
Spirit  Under  Difficulties. 

UP  to  the  point  to  which  we  have  thus  far 
carried  the  story  of  John  Meigs'  work 
at  The  Hill, — from  1876,  that  is  to  say, 
until  his  marriage  in  1882,  and  for  two  years 
thereafter — all  had  gone  prosperously  with  the 
school.  Many  difficulties  and  problems  there 
had  been,  it  is  true,  which  he  must  meet  and 
surmount;  and  there  came,  doubtless,  many  a 
moment  of  weariness,  which  threw  its  passing 
shadow  on  the  bright  activity  of  those  years. 
One  single  expression  of  this  mood  lingers  in 
his  letters,  in  this  paragraph  written  to  a  friend 
in  great  perplexity  concerning  his  duties :  "  I 
have  myself  often,  amid  the  surging  and  rush- 
ing tide  of  my  busy  life,  felt  the  uncongeniality 
of  so  much  of  the  life  here  that  I  have  again  and 
again  felt  as  if  I  could  almost  deplore  the  fate 
that  brought  me  "back  to  my  birthplace  " ;  but 
that  he  himself  realized,  even  in  the  moment  of 
104 


LIGHTS  AND  SHADOWS  105 

writing,  that  this  feeling  had  been  only  super- 
ficial, and  never  truly  characteristic  of  his 
deepest  instinct,  is  shown  by  the  rest  of  that 
sentence, — "  yet  I  have  had  an  entirely  healthy, 
and  in  the  main,  happy  life  .  .  .  and  have  al- 
lowed none  of  the  experiences  which  have  been 
yours  to  modify  my  simple  and  spontaneous 
enjoyment  of  my  home  and  its  environment." 
And  over  against  this  sentence,  with  its  partial 
reflection  of  the  sense  of  restlessness  under  the 
burdens  which  now  and  then  oppressed  him, 
there  stand  many  passages  in  even  those  few 
letters  of  his  which  are  available,  that  show 
how  gladly  and  buoyantly  in  the  main  he  shoul- 
dered his  responsibilities,  and  with  what  vigor 
he  pressed  forward  on  his  chosen  ways. 

Here  is  what  he  writes  from  time  to  time  in 
letters  of  the  early  eighties : 

"  You  will  rejoice  with  me  to  know  how 
prosperously  the  school  goes  on  in  respect  of 
its  morale;  above  all  things,  there  has  been  a 
minimum  of  the  usual  vexations  to  which  we 
look  for  our  discipline  of  heart  and  soul." 

"  To-morrow  night  we  shall  have  the  cherubs 
spend  the  last  evening  with  us  for  this  term. 
.  .  .  The  general  sense  of  thoughtfulness  will 
be  focalized  here,  and  therefore  it  has  been  my 
great  joy  to  have  several  boys  who  sorely  taxed 
my  patience  and  faith  for  months,  gradually 
emerge  from  the  category  of  unfaithfulness, 


io6      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

and  take  hopeful  pride  in  ranking  with  the 
faithful.  On  the  whole,  there  is  much  to  be 
encouraged  by,  and  everything  to  be  grateful 
for." 

[January,  1882]  "  School  began  to-day,  and 
there  are  sixty-four  boys  on  the  roll,  of  whom 
all  but  five  are  on  the  ground.  This  is  doing 
well  for  the  first  day,  is  it  not?  And  then  I 
am  so  glad  to  be  back  at  my  work,  and  to  have 
the  boys  returning  so  promptly  and  cheer- 
fully." 

In  his  achievement  for  the  school,  he  had 
already  overpassed  the  eager,  but  still  hesitant 
hope,  which  was  the  best  he  dared  cherish 
when  he  took  up  the  work  in  1876.  Writes 
one  of  his  friends: 

"  About  the  time  that  Mr.  Meigs  entered  the 
small  Hill  School,  the  coming  of  more  boys  was 
such  an  event  that  he  would  come  and  stay  a 
week-end  in  order  to  say,  c  I  have  got  two  new 
boys/  I  said  to  him,  '  When  you  get  twenty- 
five  or  thirty  boys  you  will  be  satisfied,  won't 
you?'  He  answered  very  hesitatingly,  'Yes, 
I  think  I  shall  be,  but  perhaps  I  would  like 
fifty/  " 

As  he  refers,  in  a  letter  of  1882,  to  new  boys 
who  were  entering,  and  the  general  progress 
of  the  school,  he  writes :  "  It  is  certainly  a 
blessed  kind  of  bread,  material  and  immaterial, 
to  have  come  back  after  many  days/' 


LIGHTS  AND  SHADOWS  107 

In  1884,  the  course  of  the  school's  develop- 
ment, which  had  seemed  theretofore  so  steady, 
received  what  threatened  to  be  its  first  great 
shock  of  arrest  through  a  fire  which  broke  out 
in  the  bitterest  weather  of  winter.  This  was 
in  the  middle  of  the  eighth  year  of  John  Meigs' 
administration  of  the  school,  which  he  had 
built  up  from  a  dozen  boys  to  sixty,  of  whom 
forty-five  were  boarders.  The  buildings  were 
the  original  old  ones,  which  at  various  times 
since  Dr.  Matthew  Meigs  bought  them  in  1851 
had  been  added  to  without  any  general  archi- 
tectural plan,  heated  by  several  furnaces  in 
the  cellar  and  lighted  by  a  private  gas  plant. 
The  family  part  of  the  building  was  of  stone, 
the  school  addition  of  brick,  and  at  the  east 
end  there  was  a  small  addition  of  frame  con- 
struction containing  wash  rooms  for  the  boys, 
with  faucets  and  ordinary  wash  basins;  there 
was  no  other  running  water  for  the  use  of  either 
boys  or  teachers,  and  the  whole  was  the  simple, 
and,  by  modern  comparison,  the  primitive 
equipment  of  the  boarding-school  of  that  day. 
In  the  preceding  autumn,  there  had  been  built 
a  frame  gymnasium  at  right  angles  to  the 
school  building,  and  it  was  through  a  stove  in 
this  that  the  fire  started.  It  happened  that 
Mrs.  Rossiter  Raymond,  whose  intimate  friend- 
ship with  John  Meigs  had  begun  while  he  was 
at  Lafayette,  was  visiting  at  The  Hill  at  this 


io8      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

time.  On  the  day  after  the  fire,  she  wrote 
home  to  her  husband  a  long  letter  telling  him 
of  it;  and  her  vivid  first-hand  account  is  full 
of  interest  in  the  light  it  throws  upon  the  spirit 
in  which  the  "  Professor  "  and  "  Mrs.  John  " 
and  the  school  at  large  met  this  crisis. 


"Pottstown,  March  5,  il 
"  MY  DEAR  Ros. : 

"  Yesterday  afternoon  at  3,  no  one  being  in 
the  gymnasium,  one  of  the  boys  saw  a  slight 
wreath  of  smoke  issuing  out  from  the  window 
back  of  the  stove  there.  He  watched  it  for  a 
moment  only,  then  rushed  down  to  John  in 
the  study  and  told  him  he  feared  the  gymna- 
sium was  on  fire.  Otto  and  Will  also  discov- 
ered it,  and  gave  the  general  alarm,  and  all  set 
to  work  with  a  will.  But  it  took  the  fire  engine 
so  long  to  be  notified  and  to  get  up  there, 
besides  which  the  plugs  were  so  clogged  with 
ice  that  before  the  men  had  arrived,  we  were 
all  in  fear  for  the  dear  old  house  itself,  and 
abandoning  the  gymnasium  all  efforts  were 
turned  towards  that.  The  boys  behaved  won- 
derfully; not  one  appeared  to  lose  his  head, 
and  all  accomplished  a  great  deal.  .  .  .  The 
day  was  bright  and  fine,  and  the  fact  that  it 
was  day  and  not  during  the  darkness  of  night 
seemed  from  the  first  to  make  me  glad.  Loss 
of  life  would  have  been  inevitable  had  it  been 
night,  for  the  gas  had  to  be  turned  off  imme- 
diately to  prevent  explosion.  I  rushed  into 
Mother  Meigs*  room  but  could  not  make  her 
realize  that  the  house  was  in  danger,  although 


LIGHTS  AND  SHADOWS  109 

she  was  as  calm  and  self-possessed  as  an  angel. 
Then  I  went  to  Marion's  room  and  helped  a 
very  little,  and  then  into  the  boys'  room,  where 
Will  and  I  hastily  packed  a  few  of  his  and 
Alfred's  things  into  Alfred's  trunks.  Then 
Otto  found  me  and  I  offered  to  go  down  and 
pack  for  him,  but  he  said  his  room  was  already 
full  of  smoke.  He  and  I  stayed  together  in 
Alfred's  room  and  Marion's,  grabbing  up  what 
we  could  till  Otto  took  me  by  the  arm  and  said, 
'Cousin  Sally,  you  must  come  away;  look  at 
the  smoke ! '  Sure  enough,  it  was  purring  out 
in  thick  blackness  from  the  attic.  I  put  a 
shawl  over  my  face,  and  Otto  led  me  down.  I 
went  into  my  room  again,  where  a  man  was 
asking  which  things  to  save  first,  and  gave  him 
a  few  directions.  ...  I  slipped  and  slid  down 
the  steps,  and  then  plodded  out  into  the  snow, 
where  mattresses  were  brought  for  us  to  stand 
on.  The  baby  was  grabbed  by  a  strange  man 
and  conveyed  in  a  smiling  condition  over  to  a 
neighbor's,  where  she  sat  with  a  strange  lady 
till  they  persuaded  Mother  M.  to  go  too,  which 
was  a  long  time  after.  .  .  .  She  stood  on  a  mat- 
tress with  me,  and  except  saying,  '  Mrs.  Ray- 
mond, this  is  my  dear  home;  my  children  have 
been  born  here ! '  showed  nothing  but  the  most 
wonderful  serenity,  except  that  her  beautiful 
eyes  shone.  She  asked  one  man  to  see  if  the 
hams  and  barrels  of  sugar  and  other  provisions 
could  be  rescued  from  the  cellar  as  the  fire  was 
in  the  top,  '  for,'  said  she,  '  the  boys  will  need 
them.'  Different  ones  would  come  to  her  for 
directions  where  to  look  for  particular 
things.  .  .  . 


no      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

"  The  boys  worked  like  heroes;  there  seemed 
in  all  the  hurry  and  confusion  to  be  some  one 
of  them  always  near  Marion,  so  that  if  she 
ejaculated,  '  Oh !  my  baby's  clothes ! '  or  some 
kindred  thought,  a  knight  instantly  started  off 
for  Mrs.  John's  baby's  clothes !  In  one  of  these 
moments  she  exclaimed,  '  Oh !  boys,  boys,  my 
little  old  Bible!  My  cousin  Edith  gave  it  to 
me,  I've  always  had  it ! '  Well,  I  can't  count  the 
boys  who  went  Bible  hunting.  It  seemed  to 
me  the  roughest  boys  were  the  ones  that  came 
oftenest  with  eager  delight,  with  one  Bible 
after  another,  to  be  met  with  thanks  but  the 
remark, '  Oh !  that  isn't  the  one !  Never  mind ! ' 
Back  they  would  fly,  and  although  I  told  them 
all  for  their  comfort  it  would  very  likely  be 
with  the  other  saved  books,  it  seemed  to  be 
like  the  '  Holy  Grail.'  Of  course  there  were 
awfully  funny  things  done,  and  it  was  a  healthy 
thing  to  have  to  stop  and  laugh  to  see  a  man 
carefully  descending  a  ladder  with  a  beautiful 
vase  in  his  arms,  have  a  scrap  basket  descend 
on  his  head,  scattering  its  papers,  and  com- 
pletely enveloping  his  head,  so  some  one  had 
to  climb  up  and  uncap  him.  It  is  wonderful 
how  much  was  saved,  but  I  fear  many  things 
are  badly  injured  that  need  not  have  been,  and 
in  spite  of  the  boys  watching,  things  must  have 
been  stolen.  But  there  was  more  good  will 
than  bad,  I  am  sure.  Neighbors  both  gentle 
and  rough  exerted  themselves  to  the  utmost. 
The  deserted  seminary  opposite  was  crammed 
with  recovered  goods.  Finally  when  we  were 
fairly  exhausted,  after  being  assured  that  John, 
Alfred,  Will,  Otto  and  Endicott  were  in  no 


LIGHTS  AND  SHADOWS  in 

peril,  Marion  and  I  wended  our  tired  and  half- 
frozen  way  over  to  the  neighbor  who  had  the 
baby  to  find  her  entry  and  parlors  filled  with 
saved  bundles.  Presently  along  came  Will  and 
another  boy,  with  my  trunk  between  them,  and 
when  Will  saw  me  he  roared  at  the  top  of  his 
lungs,  '  Oh !  tell  Mrs.  John  her  Bible  is  safe ! ' 
It  was  one  of  the  worst  little  scalawags  in  the 
school  who  had  the  honor  of  finding  it,  and  I 
think  the  big  boys  were  uncertain  whether  to 
embrace  him  or  kick  him!  Although  I  never 
once  caught  sight  of  Alfred,  they  all  said  he 
worked  well.  I  was  proud  of  all  my  boys,  and 
even  of  some  boys  whom  I  don't  like.  Poor 
fellows,  some  lost  all  they  had  in  their  efforts 
to  help  others,  though  I  hope  indeed  it  was 
not  literally  all,  as  the  firemen  threw  a  great 
many  clothes  out  from  the  boys'  wing,  where 
the  smoke  was  the  densest,  and  lost  things  may 
be  recovered.  But  one  and  all  seemed  to  have 
but  one  thought  of  pity,  and  that  was  for  the 
Professor.  '  Oh !  he  tries  so  hard  to  do  every- 
thing: for  us ! '  said  one,  and  '  He's  so  splendid ! ' 
said  another;  and  *  Just  look  at  him  never  say- 
ing a  word  of  complaint ! '  said  another.  And 
indeed  John  seemed  glorified  for  the  time :  his 
face  looked  so  exalted  and  noble  that  after  one 
glance,  upon  my  word  I  couldn't  stand  it  to 
look  at  him  for  fear  I  shouldn't  be  able  to  do 
another  thing! 

"  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Stephenson  (the  minister 
and  his  wife)  wanted  John,  Marion  and  the 
baby  and  nurse  there.  When  all  of  us  were 
there  but  John,  it  was  found  that  Mrs.  S.  had 
been  told  by  the  neighbors  to  parcel  out  the 


ii2      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

boys  to  them,  and  some  took  six  or  seven.  The 
boys  all  collected  in  Mr.  S.'s  study  to  be  billeted 
out,  and  such  a  lot  of  heroic  scarecrows !  Some- 
body sent  in  piles  of  dry  stockings,  and  I  made 
the  boys  put  them  on,  though  they  could 
scarcely  move  their  frozen  shoes.  .  .  .  John 
told  them  to  come  to-day  at  nine,  and  he  would 
be  ready  to  tell  them  his  plans.  Then  after 
crowding  around  him  to  bid  him  good-night, 
with  shame-faced  softness  they  all  trooped  off. 
Now  began  my  usefulness,  for  most  everybody 
was  advising  John  to  let  the  boys  all  go  home 
at  once,  even  if  they  reassembled  in  a  week  or 
two.  Even  dear  Mother  Meigs  could  see  no 
other  way  out.  I  held  my  point  firmly,  at  first 
privately  with  John  and  then  bravely  backing 
him  up  against  the  majority.  This  then  is  the 
plan  as  it  stands  now  (which  may  be  modified 
by  people's  unexpected  coldness,  but  it  won't 
be!).  As  there  were  accommodations  enough 
offered  last  night  for  one  hundred  and  fifty 
boys,  and  there  are  only  forty-eight,  I  wanted 
John  to  boldly  ask  how  many  would  be  willing 
to  give  house  room  and  board  to  how  many 
boys  apiece  (the  number  needed  being  only 
two  to  a  house),  and  let  the  work  of  reconstruc- 
tion of  the  school  instantly  begin.  Mr.  Morris, 
living  in  Philadelphia  now,  offered  his  house, 
which  is  next  to  the  seminary,  for  the  entire 
winter  and  spring  to  all  who  could  fill  it.  The 
seminary  can  be  got  right  away.  The  boys' 
hearts  are  filled  with  that  kind  of  eager  sympa- 
thy that  makes  them  long  to  help,  besides 
which  they  are  the  very  ones  to  sort  their  own 
companions'  belongings.  The  boarding-out  is 


LIGHTS  AND  SHADOWS  113 

a  picnic  to  them,  and  their  enthusiasm  is  so 
roused  for  study,  by  John's  resolve  to  have  the 
school  go  right  on,  that  I  think  they  will  do  as 
good  work  as  ever.  The  three  assistants  are 
like  a  tower  of  strength  to  John.  They,  as  well 
as  the  boys,  admire  his  grit.  Many  of  the  boys 
if  sent  home  have  parents  who  would  either 
send  them  to  other  schools,  or  terminate  their 
studies  here.  To  see  the  boys'  faces  this  morn- 
ing in  Mr.  S.'s  parlor  while  John  spoke  to  them 
was  a  sight!  He  said  they  had  done  their 
kindest  and  best  for  him  yesterday,  in  a  way 
that  made  him  determined  to  do  the  same  by 
them,  and  not  to  be  cowed  by  circumstances: 
that  the  fire  which  had  destroyed  valuable 
property  had  kindled  a  yet  more  valuable  flame, 
which  must  not  flicker  and  go  out,  but  must 
illumine  their  whole  lives.  I  tell  you  he  spoke 
straight  from  his  full  heart,  and  well,  and 
simply.  John  had  a  gentleman  arriving  late 
come  to  him  last  night,  the  father  of  one  of  his 
best  boys,  with  another  son  to  put  at  school. 
Said  he,  '  Professor,  I  am  sorry  enough  to  see 
this  trouble!  Shall  I  take  my  boy  (the  one  he 
had  just  brought)  home  again,  or  will  you  keep 
him;  which  would  you  like  best?'  John  said, 
'Let  him  stay!'  and  the  gentleman  went  off 
without  him,  very  much  pleased.  That  went 
right  to  my  heart,  it  was  such  a  pledge  of  trust. 
John  says  in  answer  to  your  inquiry  if  you 
can  help  in  any  way,  '  Not  just  now ! '  Oh ! 
how  I  wish  now  we  were  rich!  Wouldn't  I 
make  this  calamity  into  a  blessing?  Which 
perhaps  the  good  Lord  will  do,  without  my 
help." 


n4      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

Mrs.  Raymond's  final  words  were  prophetic. 
The  calamity  'was  made  into  a  blessing  through 
the  courage  and  energy  with  which  John  Meigs 
faced  the  situation.  He  could  laugh  with  stout- 
hearted humor  in  the  midst  of  the  disaster. 
"  We  are  celebrating  your  arrival  with  a  bon- 
fire/' he  said  to  the  astonished  new  boy  who 
reached  the  school  when  its  walls  were  tum- 
bling into  ruin. 

Though  the  ground  was  covered  with  snow, 
and  the  March  wind  blowing,  and  though  he 
did  not  know  at  the  moment  where  family,  boys 
or  teachers  would  sleep,  he  said  instantly  that 
the  school  should  not  be  suspended,  but  that 
its  work  would  go  straight  on.  He  would  find 
a  way.  The  kindliness  of  the  neighbors  pro- 
vided immediate  shelter.  The  building  which 
had  formerly  been  the  Girls'  Seminary,  and 
a  residence  next  it  were  secured,  and  in  one 
week  from  the  day  of  the  fire  the  school  was 
thoroughly  established  in  these  two  buildings. 
In  June  the  commencement  exercises  were  held 
in  the  new  gymnasium,  and  in  September  the 
next  session  opened  in  a  completed  new  equip- 
ment built  upon  the  enlarged  foundations  of 
the  old. 

The  fire  was  John  Meigs'  opportunity,  and 
he  seized  it.  His  seven  years  at  The  Hill  had 
revealed  his  power  as  a  headmaster,  and  proved 
that  he  could  create  the  answer  to  the  ever  ex- 


LIGHTS  AND  SHADOWS  115 

isting  demands  for  a  school  of  high  ideals  in 
life,  in  industry  and  intellectual  accomplish- 
ment. But  he  had  been  handicapped  in  the 
realization  of  his  complete  desires  by  the  poor 
physical  equipment  which  he  inherited.  Now 
he  determined  to  hazard  the  costly  erection  of 
a  school  that  should  measure  up  to  his  ideals. 
So  he  built  it  with  steam  heat,  hot  and  cold 
running  water  in  every  room,  fully  equipped 
bathrooms,  and  electric  lights — being  the 
pioneer  among  all  the  educational  institutions 
in  the  country  in  the  installation  of  what  was 
then  this  new  wonder  of  illumination.  And 
when  the  boys  came  back  in  the  fall,  the  re- 
created school  was  ready. 

As  after  the  fire  the  school  made  a  new  start 
in  its  physical  equipment,  so  in  the  year  fol- 
lowing there  was  a  new  beginning  in  its  formal 
control.  Up  to  this  time,  the  school  had  be- 
longed, so  far  as  legal  title  was  concerned,  to 
Dr.  Matthew  Meigs.  The  strange  old  man, 
haughty  and  imperious,  dwelt  apart  in  the 
isolation  of  his  study,  as  remote  from  the  world 
of  the  boys  as  some  brooding  Jove  upon  his 
misty  Olympus.  The  actual  conduct  of  the 
school  and  all  real  possession  of  it,  he  had  long 
since  delegated  to  the  son.  From  the  time 
when  John  Meigs  came  from  Lafayette,  it  had 
been,  in  all  essential  respects,  his  school;  but 
now,  in  1885,  ne  entered  into  formal  possession 


ii6      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

of  it.  On  November  I7th,  of  that  year,  he 
writes  to  his  wife,  who  happened  to  be  away 
from  The  Hill: 

"  Father  signed  a  contract  this  A.  M.  to  sell 
the  place,  and  I  am  now  sure  to  become  owner 
of  it  January  first.  It  seems  like  a  dream. 
Can  you  believe  it?  God  make  me  wise  and 
strong  to  administer  faithfully  this  new,  and 
great,  and  blessed  trust.  We  now  have  a  dis- 
tinct and  noble  object  on  which  to  concentrate 
our  aims  and  efforts  and  prayers.  I  feel  as  if 
I  had  been  born  into  a  new  world." 

In  the  new  year,  which  saw  the  transfer  com- 
pleted, he  writes :  "  How  thankful  we  should 
be  to  God  for  His  mercies  in  this,  our  field  of 
work,  and  for  its  possibilities;  to  me,  day  by 
day,  it  grows  more  attractive  and  compen- 
sating. The  future,  God  willing,  will  be  full 
of  higher  consecration." 

From  his  letters  of  this  time,  come  these 
paragraph  also: 

"  I  have  just  had  talks  with  E.  .  .  .,  who  is 
full  of  appreciative  words  about  everything, 
and  reports  that  the  boys  are  happy  and  con- 
tented to  an  unusual  degree  among  happy 
school  boys,  and  with  H.  .  .  .  who,  poor  boy, 
is  so  far  from  my  heart's  desire  just  now. 
How  I  have  loved  that  boy;  and  how  he  has 
.  .  .  but  enough !  There  is  One  who  has  given 
His  love  to  H.  .  .  .,  with  greater,  purer  out- 
flow, and  Him  have  I  so  often  grieved !  I  have 


LIGHTS  AND  SHADOWS  117 

asked  H.  ...  to  deal  honestly  with  himself, 
and  come  to  me  as  soon  as  he  will,  and  tell 
me  his  real  desire  and  purpose." 

"April  14,  1886. 

"  H.  .  .  .  has  just  offered  me  one  of  his  new 
pictures,  inscribed,  '  Yours  most  gratefully.' 
The  underscoring  is  his.  If  he  should  be  con- 
firmed in  Christian  character,  he  would  be  a 
magnificent  fellow.  How  my  heart  goes  out 
to  him!" 

"  May  the  blessed  Master  prepare  our  souls 
for  larger  blessings!  How  we  need  Him  mo- 
mently! His  is  the  only  strength  that  can 
prevail,  and  yet  we  try  so  often  to  fight  by 
ourselves." 

These  years  in  the  eighties  were  full  for  him 
of  happiness  and  growth.  His  marriage  had 
made  an  atmosphere  in  which  everything  that 
was  best  in  him  expanded. 

He  had  then,  as  indeed  he  kept  always,  the 
extraordinary  capacity  for  light-heartedness 
and  exuberant  humor  which  marked  his  life 
at  Lafayette.  From  the  pressure  of  the  most 
exacting  work  he  could  turn  with  a  sudden 
rebound  of  spirits  to  some  quick  jest  or  boister- 
ous playfulness.  Once  when  he  was  in  his 
study  at  commencement  time  when  the  strain 
of  the  year  was  at  its  climax,  his  bellboy  came 
in  with  a  card-tray  bearing  the  card  of  a  gen- 
tleman who  was  waiting  to  see  him  downstairs. 
He  leaped  from  his  chair  with  a  mock  ferocity, 


n8      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

deftly  kicked  the  card-tray  out  of  the  aston- 
ished boy's  hand  up  against  the  ceiling,  stooped 
and  picked  up  the  card,  and  then — with  the 
boy  left  grinning  behind  him — swept  down  the 
stairs  to  meet  his  visitor. 

His  music  gave  him  boundless  delight.  In 
later  years  he  had  less  and  less  chance  to  enjoy 
it,  but  at  this  time  when  the  school  was  small 
he  reveled  in  it.  He  liked  to  gather  the  boys 
round  him  in  the  evenings  and  sing,  with 
"  Mrs.  John  " — who  loved  music  as  much  as 
he  did — as  the  accompanist.  He  would  play 
games  with  them,  too,  and  enter  into  whatever 
hearty  nonsense  might  be  afoot.  From  one  of 
these  games  has  survived  the  following  jingle, 
which  makes  up  in  spirit  what  it  lacks  in 
rhyme.  The  rules  were  that  each  person  in 
the  game  should  write  down  on  a  slip  of  paper 
a  question;  the  next  person  in  the  circle  wrote 
down  under»the  question  a  noun ;  then  the  third 
person  had  to  write  a  poem  on  the  combined 
subjects. 

Here  is  John  Meigs'  subject  and  his 
response : 

"How  CAN  I  LEAVE  THEE?" 
Cats 

"  I've  gnashed  my  teeth  in  agony, 
I've  torn  my  hair  in  passion, 
I've  thrown  my  wig,  my  boots,  my  hat, 
I've  spoiled  my  beauty  lashin' 


LIGHTS  AND  SHADOWS  119 

Around  the  window  frosty  nights 

Meand'ring  thro'  the  halls 

A-listening  for  the  demons  black 

Their  dev'lish  caterwauls — 

And  as  they  scramble  on  the  fence 

Up  postern  gate  and  wall 

Their  tails  distended,  eyes  aflame 

Their  heath 'nish  yells  appall, 

I  ask  my  quivering  soul,  oh,  how 

If  I  must  leave  at  all, 

Could  I  my  conscience  lull  to  sleep 

While  cats  thus  show  their  gall — 

And  how  I'd  leave  thee  would  be  thus, 

No  fur,  no  ribs,  no  liver 

No  mouth,  no  nose  with  doleful  woes 

No  rest  save  depths  of  river — 

I'd  pocket  all  the  cor'ner's  fees 

I'd  do  a  fancy  stroke 

Of  murderous  mauling,  bloody  gouge 

Till  all  your  bones  were  broke." 

When  his  children  were  born,  a  whole  new 
realm  of  happiness  began  for  him.  Edith,  the 
eldest,  was  born  in  1883.  The  following  year 
his  son  was  born.  The  name  he  chose  for  him 
was  a  recognition  of  the  influence  which  had 
come  into  his  life  through  the  little  boy  who 
had  loved  him,  and  whom  he  had  loved  when 
he  was  at  Lafayette — the  little  invalid  of  whom 
the  story  was  told  in  an  earlier  chapter.  When 
that  child  died,  John  Meigs  had  had  in  his  visits 
to  the  Raymonds  his  first  great  impression  of 
the  kind  of  radiant  Christian  faith  which  turns 


120      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

sorrow  into  triumph.  He  never  lost  the  effect 
of  that,  nor  ever  lost  his  love  for  the  little 
child.  So  he  named  his  own  son  Dwight 
Raymond. 

Three  other  daughters  came  to  the  family — 
Margaret,  in  1888,  Marion,  in  1891,  and  Helen, 
the  youngest,  in  1893.  In  his  companionship 
with  them,  all  that  was  tender  and  beautiful 
in  Meigs'  nature  expanded  to  the  full.  He 
played  and  romped  with  them,  and  entered  into 
all  their  childish  pleasures  and  excitements — 
as  witness  these  two  letters  written  to  a  friend 
who  had  sent  the  children  something  that 
threw  them  into  exuberant  delight: 

"  Your  letter  and  telegram  announcing  your 
great  beneficence  arrived  in  good  time  before 
the  goats! 

"  You  can  imagine  the  state  of  exhilaration 
in  which  the  children  managed  to  exist  until 
the  goats  reached  The  Hill.  Then  their  joy 
knew  no  bounds,  and  meals  have  been  a  super- 
fluity and  a  rude  interruption  to  the  otherwise 
unbroken  course  of  their  joy  in  watching  the 
animals  and  ministering  to  their  dainty  palates. 
They  are  certainly  beautiful,  and  when  the 
harness,  of  which  you  speak,  arrives,  I  shall 
be  able  to  provide  for  the  children  great  happi- 
ness by  supplying  a  suitable  cart,  which  will 
give  a  final  touch  to  their  bliss.  ..." 

"  I  beg  to  acknowledge  the  receipt  of  your 
esteemed  favor  of  the  24th  inst,  relative  to  the 


LIGHTS  AND  SHADOWS  121 

harness  for  the  goats.  I  wonder  that  you  ever 
found  time  to  even  send  the  goats,  for  I  appre- 
ciate, I  think,  the  volume  and  the  multiplicity 
of  the  demands  upon  your  time  and  thought. 
"  Your  suggestion  as  to  the  brushing  and 
combing  of  the  goats  I  note  with  thanks.  A 
man  will  attend  to  this,  and  I  need  hardly 
assure  you,  that  this  care  is,  in  a  sense,  unnec- 
essary so  far  as  convincing  us  that  we  have  the 
handsomest  pair  of  goats  going  is  concerned. 
They  are  beautiful,  even  now,  and  I  anticipate 
great  pleasure  in  the  children's  happiness  dur- 
ing the  summer." 

In  the  summer  of  1887,  he  took  three  Hill 
boys  with  him  to  England,  for  four  weeks' 
vacation;  and  thus  writes  home: 


"July  17,  1887. 
I  F; 


"This  morning  we  heard  Farrar  preach  a 
thoroughly  characteristic  sermon — just  such 
an  one  as  I  wanted  to  hear  from  him  if  I  were 
to  be  denied  a  second.  The  text,  Psalm  cxiii: 
3,  offered  him  a  magnificent  theme  for  a  plea 
for  charity  and  broad  Christian  living.  His 
language  was  as  superb  as  his  treatment  of  the 
subject  on  Christ's  lines.  I  was  filled  almost 
to  the  point  of  sobbing  again  and  again, — and 
all  the  accessories  of  the  occasion  served  to 
burn  it  into  my  soul.  The  old  church,  St. 
Margaret's,  the  Parliamentary  church,  has  had 
a  new  lease  of  life  under  his  rectorship,  and 
throngs  of  people  struggle  for  places  to  hear 
the  wonderful  preacher.  I  had  one  of  the 
choice  seats  in  the  whole  edifice,  near  enough 


122      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

to  the  reading  desk  and  pulpit  to  catch  every 
word  with  comfort." 

"July  23,  1887. 

"  On  Thursday  we  went  out  to  Windsor  and 
Eton,  enjoying  our  great  privilege  of  going 
through  Eton  under  N.  L.  .  .  .'s  guidance.  His 
father  had  written  him  of  our  coming,  and  he 
met  us  at  the  White  Hart,  where  we  lunched, 
and  conducted  us  through  Windsor,  so  far  as 
it  was  accessible  to  the  public,  and  all  through 
Eton's  grounds  and  buildings.  The  boys  were 
hard  at  work  in  every  quarter  with  cricket, 
and  just  before  we  left,  word  came  that  Eton 
had  beaten  all  the  schools  of  England  in  the 
annual  rifle  match  at  Wimbledon.  At  half-past 
four,  we  returned  to  N.  .  .  /s  room,  which  is,  I 
should  say,  five  feet  wide  and  ten  or  eleven 
long,  with  cupboard  inserted  in  wall,  from 
which  he  took  out  various  packages,  depositing 
their  contents  upon  the  table,  upon  which  a 
servant  had  placed  a  tea  pot  and  cups  and 
sugar,  with  bread  cut  thin  and  spread  with 
butter,  ripe  raspberries  in  their  little  baskets, 
ginger  snaps,  vanilla  cakes,  and  a  jug  of  '  Sur- 
rey Cream,'  the  richest  and  most  delectable 
concoction  for  tea  I  ever  tasted.  We  thus  took 
'  tea '  together  in  true  Eton  style,  and  I  actu- 
ally enjoyed  the  tea.  Lots  of  little  incidents 
filled  up  this  afternoon,  and  I  was  more  inter- 
ested in  this  visit  than  in  any  event  of  our 
journey.  We  came  straight  from  Eton  to 
Southampton. 

"  Yesterday  we  spent  on  the  Isle  of  Wight, 
a  paradise  with  its  few  earthly  taints.  We 


LIGHTS  AND  SHADOWS  123 

were  most  delighted  with  Carisbrooke  Castle, 
where  Charles  I  of  England  was  confined,  and 
where  his  daughter,  Elizabeth,  died  in  prison. 
The  view  from  this  elevation  is  exquisite.  We 
enjoyed  Ventnor's  beauties,  and  should  easily 
choose  it  for  a  stopping-place  in  preference  to 
all  others.  At  Newport  we  witnessed  the  pres- 
entation by  the  Mayor  of  the  town  of  an 
address  (Jubilee)  to  the  Queen.  We  had  a 
commanding  view  of  Her  Majesty,  Princess 
Beatrice,  Prince  Henry  of  Battenberg,  Grand 
Duke  of  Hesse  and  his  two  daughters.  The 
town  was  decorated  elaborately,  and  the  en- 
thusiasm of  the  Burghers  was  great.  The 
Queen  was  gracious,  smiling  and  cordial  in  her 
manner." 

"  Oban,  August  7,  1887. 

"  Yesterday  morning  we  started  for  the  little 
islands  of  lona,  where  St.  Columba  consecrated 
the  very  earth  by  his  life  of  Christ-likeness, 
and  drew  the  blood-thirsty  and  blood-imbued 
chieftains  and  kings  of  isle  and  mainland  to 
desire  burial  in  the  soil  he  trod,  and  Staffa, 
where  Fingal's  Cave  astounds  one  by  the  won- 
ders of  its  formation,  and  its  varied  display 
of  the  handiwork  of  God. 

"  To-day  the  thermometer  is  about  50  de- 
grees, while  I  suppose  with  you  at  home  it  is 
nearly  ninety;  and  yet,  as  for  me,  heat  has  no 
terrors  at  home, — blessed  spot ! 

"  We  attended  service  this  morning  at  the 
Congregational  church,  and  heard  from  Mr. 
MacGregor,  of  London,  a  powerful  and  beauti- 
ful sermon  on  the  text,  '  For  Thou  preventest 
him  with  the  blessings  of  goodness ! '  '  Pre- 


'124      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

yentest '  in  the  sense  of  '  provides!  '  or  '  antic- 
ipatest  for.'  The  preacher  illustrated  with  rare 
beauty  and  power  the  truth  of  the  text  in 
nature,  in  Christ,  in  Providence;  and  how 
touchingly  he  told,  here,  the  story  of  the  prod- 
igal son,  and  how  tenderly  he  explained 
Christ's  preparing  a  place  for  us,  just  as  the 
wife  or  mother,  for  child  or  husband,  is  un- 
willing to  allow  other  or  menial  hands  to  pre- 
pare for  the  returning  one  after  long  absence. 
After  service,  we  partook  of  the  Lord's  Supper, 
so  simply,  but  sweetly,  composing  all  unrest, 
and  breathing  new  peace  and  hope  in  my  soul." 

"  London,  August  12,  1887. 
"  Since  writing  you  from  Oban,  we  have  had 
by  far  the  pleasantest  week  of  our  journeyings. 
Owing  to  the  severe  storm  which  would  last, 
according  to  the  Scotch  authorities  on  the 
matter,  from  three  to  four  days,  we  aban- 
doned our  trip  over  the  Caledonian  Canal  to 
Inverness,  and  came  down  to  Glasgow.  The 
Cathedral  of  Glasgow  has,  unquestionably, 
the  finest  collection  of  stained-glass  work  in 
the  kingdom,  and  I  have  never  seen  such  mag- 
nificent effects,  nor  deemed  them  possible,  as 
in  Christ's  ascension.  It  was  in  the  crypt  here 
— which,  strangely  enough,  contains  the  finest 
glass  windows — that,  according  to  Scott,  Rob 
Roy  gave  the  warning  to  Osbaldistone,  as  re- 
counted in  Rob  Roy.  That  night  we  came 
down  to  Carlisle,  where  Mary  Queen  of  Scots 
was  first  imprisoned,  visiting,  early  the  next 
day,  the  Cathedral,  and  then  advancing  to  the 
English  lake  region,  by  way  of  Penrith  and 
Keswick.  We  took  a  carriage  for  a  day  driv- 


LIGHTS  AND  SHADOWS  125 

ing  to  Greta  Hall  (Southey's  residence)  to  the 
Falls  of  Lodore  .  .  .  and  along  Derwentwater; 
then  by  way  of  Grasmere,  where  Wordsworth 
is  buried,  to  Rydal,  where  he  lived,  though  his 
house  is  scrupulously  closed  to  visitors  by  the 
present  owner,  and  on  to  Ambleside  and  Win- 
dermere,  from  which  point  we  made  our  ap- 
proach to  Manchester.  .  .  . 

"  We  came  on  to  Rugby  that  night,  and  by 
management  I  got  access  to  the  chapel,  where 
Arnold  preached  and  lies  buried  before  the 
chancel — simply  '  Thomas  Arnold  '  graven  on 
a  marble  slab,  but  oh!  the  indelible  impression 
he  has  graven  on  the  lives  of  so  many  priceless 
souls  that  shall  go  on  speaking  through  other 
souls  when  all  trace  of  the  name  is  effaced! 
It  was  a  solemn  hour  to  me,  and  how  I  wished 
to  be  alone  there  at  that  shrine  but  for  a  little 
time!  It  was  not  so  to  be,  and  my  prayer 
for  the  help  and  spirit  of  Arnold's  Christ  was 
no  less  sincere  and  burning  because  of  the  boys' 
presence.  .  .  . 

"  At  Oxford,  I  bought  Bazeley's  life,  which 
you  will  enjoy  deeply.  His  evangelistic  work 
was  wonderful,  and  the  Scotch  church  at  Ox- 
ford is  his  own  gift  to  his  people.  He  died  in 
'83  I  believe,  but  his  is  a  hallowed  name  on  the 
lips  of  all  who  knew  him  or  his  work.  .  .  . 

"  We  have  visited  the  wonderful  Kensington 
museums,  the  Blue  Coat  and  Charterhouse 
schools — in  the  latter  of  which  you  will  re- 
member Thackeray,  who  was  educated  there, 
located  Colonel  Newcome  in  his  last  days — 
the  pathetic  ending  of  which  is  one  of 
Thackeray's  finest  passages.  Thence  we  went 
down  the  Thames,  by  boat,  to  Greenwich, 


126      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

where  after  visiting  the  hospital  and  observa- 
tory we  had  one  of  the  famous  '  Ship  Tavern  ' 
dinners." 

"  Sunday  evening,  August  14,  1887. 

"  I  rose  early  this  A.  M.,  and  after  breakfast 
we  attended  service  at  Westminster  Abbey.  I 
pray  that  the  great  throng  there  felt  more  of 
the  spiritual  power  of  the  sermon  and  service 
than  I  did.  The  entire  service,  prayers,  every- 
thing except  the  scripture  lessons,  was  intoned, 
and  the  music,  though  artistically  beautiful 
and  moving,  was  powerless  to  stir  one's 
thoughts  one  half  so  much  as  silence  in  that 
grand  sanctuary  might.  The  sermon,  on  the 
text,  *  Seek  ye  first  the  kingdom  of  God  and 
His  righteousness/  was  composed  largely  of 
rather  striking,  but  crudely  correlated  anec- 
dotes, which  distracted  rather  than  fixed  one's 
thoughts  on  the  magnificent  theme.  The  more 
I  see  and  hear  of  this  mighty  church  '  estab- 
lishment ' — fixed  in  the  state,  rather  than  in  the 
heart,  of  its  very  dignitaries  and  apostles — the 
more  convinced  am  I  of  its  wide  and  almost 
hopeless  departure  from  Christ's  ideal  organi- 
zation which  must  have  been  simplicity  itself 
and  directness  in  its  quintessence. 

"Think  of  it — at  Rugby  and  Stratford-on- 
Avon  we  heard  and  saw  the  Salvation  Army  in 
its  aggressive  work,  and  here  to-night,  we 
heard  choirs  of  Christian  singers  arresting  the 
attention  of  passers-by,  by  gathering  in  front 
of  their  respective  churches,  and  with  organ 
accompaniment,  tell  the  story  of  Christ.  Here 
are  the  two  extremes  of  so-called  Christian 
worship.  How  wide  the  interval,  God  knows 


LIGHTS  AND  SHADOWS  127 

and  judges.    Dear  Master,  help  us  to  live  Thy 
praise  and  speak  it  too!  ... 

"To-night  we  have  been  writing,  all  save 
R.  .  .  .,  who  retired  early.  He  is  a  singular 
boy,  and  one  is  at  a  loss  where  to  place  him. 
We  are  all  just  so— bundles  of  paradoxes—God 
help  us  all!" 

At  this  point  it  is  interesting  to  add  also 
some  of  the  impressions  reflected  in  the  letters 
written  home  from  Europe  during  another  trip 
a  few  years  later: 

"  Amsterdam. 

"  In  the  midst  of  this  wonderful  Dutch  peo- 
ple I  have  groaned  for  you.  Your  soul  would 
be  filled  by  the  sights  on  every  hand,  and 
their  patience  under  stupendous  natural  dis- 
advantage would  wrest  admiration  from  your 
responsive  spirit.  I  am  amazed  at  the  courtesy, 
the  kindliness,  of  all  classes  and  conditions 
of  men — and  children,  too.  We  should  be 
astounded  by  such  politeness  in  America,  and 
they  here  must  be  aghast  at  our  manners 
sometimes.  I  have  noticed  the  children  and 
the  country  children  especially,  and  they  seem 
to  me  the  simplest,  happiest  lot  of  youngsters 
I  have  ever  seen.  It  has  been  a  positive  delight 
to  watch  them  at  their  play  or  at  their  domestic 
tasks.  Even  you  would  pronounce  Holland 
the  cleanest  country  in  the  world,  and  while 
they  have  a  superabundance  of  water  at  their 
doors,  literally,  for  many  men  can  step  out  of 
their  front  doors  into  the  canal,  if  they  so 
choose — there  is  a  clean,  wholesome,  constitu- 


128      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

tional  characteristic  that  one  fails  utterly  to 
see  in  Venice,  where  the  streets  are  all  canals. 
I  am  prouder  than  ever  before  of  the  infusion 
of  Dutch  blood  in  my  veins,  be  it  ever  so  slight. 
(Through  his  father's  grandmother,  Jemina 
Van  Boskerk,  of  Albany).  I  shall  be  really 
happy  only  when  I  have  spent  days,  not  to 
say  weeks,  in  this  wonderful  garden  spot.  The 
expanse  of  country  is  like  an  animated  paint- 
ing. I  have  been  to  Delft  and  gotten  a  few 
trifles  of  the  ware  for  tokens.  I  have  visited 
Rotterdam,  The  Hague,  the  capital,  which  is 
marvelously  attractive,  and  Scheveningen,  and 
Amsterdam,  the  commercial  capital.  So  far, 
I  have  had  but  one  impression  of  the  Dutch 
people,  and  I  have  already  uttered  it." 

"  Copenhagen,  July  22. 

"  I  surely  am  seeing  much  that  is  new  and 
moving  without  undertaking  prodigies  in  the 
way  of  miles  of  canvas,  traversed  by  my  eye, 
while  my  brain  is  whirling  in  hopeless  confu- 
sion. I  am  systematically  avoiding  art  gal- 
leries, though  I  have  deep  pleasure  in  visiting 
the  Thorwaldsen  Museum,  which  is  devoted  to 
the  great  master's  wonderful  work  exclusively. 
I  have  driven  or  ridden  much,  have  visited  the 
famous  Deer  Park  in  the  country  near  by,  and 
seen  some  of  the  royal  family  at,  or  near  their 
summer  residence,  en  famille.  This  is  to  me, 
next  to  Holland,  the  most  engaging  region  I 
have  seen. 

"  From  Amsterdam  via  Hamburg,  I  came  to 
Kiel,  where  I  took  the  Danish  mail  steamer,  a 
government  boat,  for  Korsor,  in  Denmark, 
whence  I  came  by  rail  to  Copenhagen.  .  .  . 


LIGHTS  AND  SHADOWS  129 

But  a  thousandfold  more  interesting  and  un- 
expected was  my  meeting  at  Hamburg,  and 
keeping  up  the  association  as  far  as  Copen- 
hagen, with  General  Booth,  of  the  Salvation 
Army,  en  route  to  Stockholm  for  a  three  days' 
visit  and  campaign.  I  had  much  conversation 
with  him,  and  he  was  as  simple  and  affable  and 
cordial  as  a  child.  He  looks  better  and  younger 
than  I  had  anticipated,  and  bears  his  honors 
meekly.  He  is  coming  to  America  in  the 
autumn,  and  will  be  in  Philadelphia,  so  that 
we  may  see  and  hear  him  there.  I  inclose  you 
his  signature  on  one  of  his  cards.  You  will 
prize  it,  I  am  sure. 

"  The  open  air  life  of  the  people  here  delights 
me,  their  countenances  are  ruddy,  fresh  and 
wholesome,  and  their  eyes  clear  and  frank. 
The  children  are  peculiarly  winsome  and  ap- 
proachable." 

"July  23. 

"  Was  it  not  singular,  my  meeting  General 
Booth  at  Hamburg?  I  was  already  in  the  train 
and  saw  him  approaching,  recognized  him 
from  his  pictures,  and  taking  off  my  hat  ad- 
dressed him.  He  came  up  to  me  and  greeted 
me  most  cordially,  and  thereafter  we  were 
quite  chummy.  The  King  of  Sweden  has  made 
unprecedented  concession  in  the  matter  of 
public  meetings  in  the  great  square  in  Stock- 
holm, and  as  you  may  recall,  the  Crown  Prince 
was  a  delegate  at  the  Y.  M.  C.  A.  Jubilee  in 
London  recently.  In  this  fact  may  be  found 
the  explanation  for  the  surprising  privilege 
granted  the  Salvation  Army.  One  of  the  Gen- 
eral's attendants  was  a  Swede,  who,  ten  years 


1 30      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

ago,  I  believe,  turned  from  his  studies  in  the 
University  of  Upsala,  Sweden,  to  engage  in 
this  work.  He  acts  as  an  interpreter  on  this 
expedition,  having  devised  a  system  of  inter- 
pretation that  the  General  says  is  practically 
almost  as  effective  as  direct  speech." 

"  Christiania,  Norway,  July  24. 
"  The  ride  to  Helsingor,  where  Shakespeare 
locates  one  of  the  great  scenes  in  Hamlet,  was 
interesting.  At  this  point,  the  train  crosses  by 
a  ferry  from  Denmark  to  Sweden,  through 
which  the  journey  was  most  uninteresting  and 
commonplace  until  one  o'clock  this  A.  M.  On 
entering  Norway,  we  were  all  examined  as  to 
our  antecedents  and  destination  by  a  health 
officer,  who  was  on  the  scent  for  cholera.  As 
I  had  none  about  me,  I  passed  muster,  though 
I  see  no  reason  why  a  man  could  not  lie  like 
a  son  of  Belial  and  frustrate  utterly  the  gov- 
ernment's scrupulous  care.  .  .  .  The  sleeping 
cars,  built  on  the  ever-wakeful  principle,  are  a 
study.  One  is  expected  to  stretch  out  at 
length  on  the  cushions  of  this  compartment, 
with  which  you  are  familiar,  and  with  a  micro- 
scopically discernible  pillow,  and  a  blanket  that 
won't  stand  the  microscope,  luxuriate  in 
modern  appliances  for  comfort.  If  I  had  to 
travel  at  night  here,  I  should  organize  a  "  pull- 
man  strike  "  on  original  lines.  ...  I  just  met 
Ibsen  on  the  street  and  may  meet  him  per- 
sonally this  P.  M.,  as  I  have  been  offered  an 
introduction.  He  is  so  like  his  pictures  and 
caricatures  that  I  recognized  him  instantly, 
though  I  had  no  idea  he  lived  here.  Booth  and 
Ibsen  within  four  days  of  each  other!  What  a 


LIGHTS  AND  SHADOWS  131 

contrast,  and  yet  they  are  working  out,  each 
in  his  own  way,  their  theory  of  the  truth  for 
the  salvation  of  society.  What  vessels  the  Al- 
mighty does  use  for  His  purposes — and  what 
weak  ones — I  realize  better  day  by  day.  ... 

"  The  kind  of  terror  that  '  walketh  at  noon- 
day '  and  that  sign  U.  S.  A.  after  their  names 
on  the  hotel  registers,  make  one's  hair  stand 
on  end.  I  have  had  to  listen  to  the  conversa- 
tion of  two  of  them.  One  of  them  had  seen 
nothing  at  Copenhagen  but  Tivoli,  a  kind  of 
Coney  Island  affair,  and  the  other  rather  in- 
sisted that  the  so-called  Viking  ship  at  Chicago 
was  an  original. 

"  The  first  glimpses  I  get  here  of  Norway 
are  reassuring,  and  doubly  so,  for  to-morrow  I 
begin  to  travel  westward." 

Back  to  The  Hill  after  the  first  journey, 
Meigs  came  in  the  fall  of  1887  for  three  more 
years  of  steady  growth  in  the  school.  But  at 
the  end  of  the  third  school  year,  in  July,  1890, 
there  came  another  fire,  more  sweeping,  more 
ruinous  than  the  fire  of  1884.  Destroying,  as 
it  did,  the  entire  equipment  of  the  school,  and 
recompensed,  as  it  turned  out,  by  inadequate 
insurance,  the  disaster  seemed  at  first  so  com- 
plete as  to  be  almost  crushing.  But  Meigs 
looked  the  difficulties  in  the  face  unflinchingly, 
drew  a  grateful  breath  that  they  were  not 
worse,  and  then  set  himself,  with  indomitable 
hopefulness,  to  shape  out  of  the  ashes  of  the 


132      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

old  school  his  vision  for  the  new.  His  letters 
tell  the  vivid  story  of  the  way  in  which  he 
turned  his  trial  into  blessing.  He  was  away 
from  the  school  when  the  fire  occurred,  and 
so  was  Mrs.  Meigs.  Hurrying  back  to  Potts- 
town,  he  writes  her  from  on  board  the  train: 

"  Surely  God  has  called  us  to  a  most  unusual 
experience  of  His  dealings,  mysterious  beyond 
words  while  we  look  upon  the  things  that  are 
seen,  but  in  and  through  it  all,  His  great 
mercy  ever  shines.  If  this  latest  calamity  had 
befallen  our  home  by  night,  how  awful  might 
have  been  the  consequences!  Who  can  say 
what  agony  might  have  been  added  to  our  al- 
ready great  loss  ?  It  is  at  best  a  great  blow  to 
us,  only  beginning  to  emerge  from  the  shadow 
of  great  burdens  borne  so  many  years,  but  we 
can  look  up  and  say,  *  Blessed  be  the  name  of 
the  Lord.'  Six  years  ago  we  found  cause  to 
thank  Him  for  the  loss  that  seemed  at  first  to 
be  irreparable;  who  knows  but  that  we  shall 
be  happier  and  more  useful  for,  and  because  of 
this  affliction?  Such  is  the  spirit  in  which  we 
shall  meet  this  shock.  With  the  presence  of 
Him  'who  giveth  liberally/  we  can  nothing 
lack." 

Then  from  Pottstown  he  wrote  again: 

"July  4,  1890. 

"  H.  .  .  .  came  to  Harrisburg  to  meet  me 
this  morning.  By  the  time  we  reached  Potts- 
town  I  was  thoroughly  posted  on  everything 


LIGHTS  AND  SHADOWS  133 

but  the  origin  of  the  fire.  No  one  knows, 
though  it  was  first  detected  in  the  third  story 
near  the  elevator.  The  Fire  Company,  being 
telephoned  for,  responded  soon,  but  found  the 
water  supply  deficient.  They  fought  heroi- 
cally, and  saved  the  annex  and  gymnasium, 
though  the  schoolroom  fell  easy  prey  to  the 
fire,  because  of  its  yellow  pine  ceiling  and  lin- 
ing. It  is  practically — for  insurance  recovery 
— a  total  loss,  the  annex  alone  having  its  walls 
intact,  and  even  its  interior  is  defiled  and  dis- 
figured by  the  gum-like  deposit  and  smoke 
coming  from  the  schoolroom.  The  busts, 
which  were  not  destroyed,  are  ebonized  now. 
The  iron  girders  in  the  dining-room  appear  in- 
tact, and  have  had  much  to  do  in  saving  the 
walls  of  the  East  Wing.  The  basement  is  a 
horrible  marsh,  water  and  mud  from  above 
having  deluged  it.  The  floors  in  the  old  stone 
part,  on  the  first  story  are  not  burned  through ; 
above  all  is  gone,  far  worse,  I  think,  than  in 
'84.  As  a  whole,  the  sweep  of  destruction  was 
more  terrible  than  in  '84,  but  the  outer  walls 
are  in  promising  condition,  except  in  the 
southeast  corner.  Our  fireplace  and  chimney 
again  rears  its  head  aloft,  the  hearthstone  and 
back  and  jams  unmoved  by  the  general  wreck. 
.  .  .  By  Monday  we  ought  to  have  fifty  men 
at  work,  cleaning  away  the  debris,  and  then 
we  purpose  to  make  things  hum,  though  until 
the  insurance  people  settle  I  cannot  lay  a  hand 
to  the  work.  While  I  was  going  through  the 
ruins  with  the  builders,  a  lady  and  gentleman 
were  announced,  who  entered  their  boy  amid 
desolation  itself — a  striking  and  cheering  to- 


134      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

ken  of  faith,  surely.  If  is  wonderful  how  little 
damage  was  done  to  the  grounds  about  the 
house. 

"  I  have  lots  of  telegrams  offering  service ; 
everybody  has  been  kindness  itself.  It  is 
touching  to  discover  the  sentiments  of  the 
people.  This  will  be  a  blessing,  though  to- 
day it  is  a  great  burden.  I  am  delighted  to 
be  occupied  with  plans  for  a  perfect  building 
from  cellar  to  roof.  This  disaster  is  already 
being  blessed  to  our  future  I  know,  and  before 
the  new  year  comes  we  shall  say  it  was  a 
blessing  undisguised!  It  is  a  positive  delight 
to  be  able  to  plan  how  to  carry  out  every  idea 
that  I  have  felt  must  be  dismissed  for  years, 
if  not  forever.  ^  >:  .  I  feel  more  infused  with 
courage  now  than  ever  before,  and  with  God's 
help  and  counsel  we  shall  be  able  to  do  far 
more  for  our  boys  than  ever  before.  .  .  ^ 
What  a  glorious  rest  I  had  with  the  loved  ones 
at  E.  .  .  . !  It  gives  me  strength  and 
spirit  for  the  big  pull  ahead!  Have  been  up 
nearly  all  night  making  an  inventory  for  use 
of  insurance  men,  and  to-day  comes  the  en- 
counter. God  help  us !  The  appraisers  of  the 
building  will  go  ahead  while  we  are  overhaul- 
ing the  furniture — a  sickening  business;  but 
it  will  all  come  out  right;  of  this  be  assured. 

"  I  telegraphed  S.  .  .  .  Grand  oppor- 
tunity to  improve  on  the  past.  Am  hopeful 
and  as  happy  as  it  is  decent  to  be."  [Speak- 
ing of  his  disappointment  concerning  the  re- 
sult of  the  amount  of  insurance  allowed.] 

"  Well,  we  have  better  than  earthly  riches, 
and  it  is  still  within  our  power  to  make  our 


LIGHTS  AND  SHADOWS  135 

beloved  home  sweeter  still,  and  means  amply 
to  do  this,  though  I  shall  have  less  of  a  sur- 
plus than  I  anticipated.  .  .  . 

"  Yesterday  was  a  big  day  in  achievement, 
and  I  am  passing  from  the  realm  of  hope  to 
that  of  expectation  that  we  shall  be  ready  for 
our  boys  at  the  regular  date." 

He  had  the  grounds  strung  with  arc  lights, 
and  a  double  force  of  workmen  labored  on  the 
walls  of  the  new  buildings  day  and  night; 
while  he  himself  was  among  them  continually, 
urging,  pushing,  inspiring  foremen  and  men 
to  finish  the  whole  construction  in  season  for; 
him  to  make  good  his  promise  that  the  school 
would  open  at  the  usual  time  in  the  fall. 

In  spite  of  multiplied  difficulties,  it  did  open 
only  a  very  little  after  the  hoped-for  day ;  and 
a  vivid  glimpse  of  John  Meigs  himself  may 
be  caught  through  the  words  of  one  of  the 
masters,  Mr.  Alfred  G.  Rolfe,  who  began  his 
long  term  of  service  at  the  school  in  that 
memorable  year. 

"  I  shall  never  forget,"  He  wrote,  "  the  open- 
ing night.  The  schoolroom  was  in  an  un- 
finished state,  and  workmen  were  still  busy 
when  Professor  took  his  place  to  conduct 
evening  prayers.  There  was  no  organ,  and 
as  Professor  started  the  first  hymn,  '  Holy, 
holy,  holy/  I  said  to  myself, — 'he  can  never 
carry  it  through ;  it's  too  high.'  I  didn't  know 


136      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

the  man.  The  hymn  went  triumphantly 
through  to  its  finish,  Professor's  powerful 
voice  dominating  all.  Then  followed  a  short 
passage  of  scripture,  and  then  the  prayer, 
strong,  helpful,  inspiring.  Then  Professor 
called  up  boy  after  boy,  addressing  them  all, 
new  and  old,  by  their  first  names,  and  settling 
each  case  in  a  few  crisp,  decisive  words.  I 
had  been  teaching  several  years,  but  I  had 
never  seen  in  school  or  college  such  an  ex- 
ample of  power.  Professor  was  master  then 
as  always, — strong,  calm  and  self-controlled." 
Years  afterwards — in  the  year,  in  fact,  of 
his  death — there  came  to  John  Meigs  a  little 
note  from  a  gentleman  in  England.  It  said: 
"  I  was  talking  to  a  man  on  the  'phone  just 
now,  and  in  the  course  of  sundry  moralizings 
I  had  occasion  to  say  to  him,  '  Well,  as  an 
American  whom  I  once  met  for  an  hour  or 
two  in  a  train  in  Switzerland  remarked  to 
me,  "  Obstacles  are  the  glory  of  life."  '  So  you 
see  you  are  not  forgotten."  To  many  other 
persons  who  had  thus  met  him,  even  for  a  very 
little  while,  John  Meigs  was  a  man  not  easily 
forgotten;  and  the  reason  was  that  those  who 
had  come  in  contact  with  his  spirit  felt  in  him, 
not  as  a  phrase,  but  as  a  fact,  that  strength 
which  out  of  obstacles  had  won  its  glory. 


CHAPTER  VI 

IDEALS  FOR  THE  SCHOOL 

Thring  of  Uppingham  as  Exemplar  of  John  Meigs'  Ideals — 
The  Educational  Value  of  Beautiful  Things— The  Mother  in 
the  School — The  Influence  of  the  Masters — Training  the  Older 
Boys  for  Leadership — John  Meigs'  Loyalty  to  Boys  Who 
Seemed  to  Fail — His  Hopefulness,  and  "  Humanness  " — Boys 
Whom  He  Befriended— The  Exile  from  Japan— The  Power  of 
His  Prayers. 

WITH  the  rebuilding  of  the  school  after 
the  fire  of  1890,  there  began  another 
decade  of  progress  and  expansion. 
The  buildings  which  had  been  burned  were 
replaced  by  larger  and  better  ones.  The  walls 
of  the  old  stone  family  mansion  still  stood 
firm  after  the  flames  had  swept  the  interior, 
and  within  these  much-tried  walls  the  head- 
master's house  was,  for  the  second  time,  re- 
stored. Back  of  it,  and  extending  along  the 
crest  of  the  hill,  ran  a  three-story  building  of 
brown  brick,  afterwards  overgrown  with 
vines,  in  which  on  the  first  floor  was  the  big 
dining-room,  and  on  the  second  and  third 
floors,  rooms  for  the  younger  boys.  At  right 
angles  from  the  end  of  this  building,  ran  an- 
other of  the  same  general  appearance,  with 
the  gymnasium  on  the  first  floor,  and  the 
137 


i38      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

great  schoolroom  where  the  boys  studied  on 
the  second.  Opposite  the  headmaster's  house 
and  the  dining-room,  and  forming  with  that 
first  building  and  the  schoolroom  the  third 
side  of  an  open  quadrangle,  was  built  some 
years  later  what  was  called  then  the  "  Sixth 
Form  Wing."  From  a  brick  cloistered  arcade 
on  the  first  floor  opened  the  large  general 
reading-room,  where  the  papers  and  maga- 
zines and  a  library  of  books  for  the  boys  were 
kept,  and  several  recitation  rooms;  more  reci- 
tation rooms,  and  the  physical  and  chemical 
laboratories  were  in  the  basement — a  base- 
ment which,  on  account  of  the  steep  slope  of 
the  land,  was  almost  wholly  above  ground  on 
the  side  away  from  the  quadrangle.  The 
rooms  of  the  Sixth  Form  boys  were  on  the 
second  floor,  and  those  of  the  Fifth  Formers 
on  the  third,  and  in  a  little  turret  on  the 
fourth  floor  that  finished  the  end  of  the  build- 
ing. On  the  other  side  of  the  schoolroom,  and 
forming  a  prolongation  in  that  direction  of 
the  Sixth  Form  Wing,  was  a  smaller  building 
with  rooms  for  the  boys ;  and  in  the  "  Cot- 
tage,"— a  building  about  fifty  yards  away 
which  had  been  built  originally  by  Dr. 
Matthew  Meigs  for  his  own  residence,  then 
sold  and  afterwards  repurchased  for  the 
school — lived  some  twenty-five  or  thirty  re- 
maining boys.  In  the  cottage,  and  in  all  the 


IDEALS  FOR  THE  SCHOOL         139 

halls  of  the  main  buildings,  were  the  resi- 
dence rooms  of  the  masters,  all  of  whom  lived 
among  the  boys,  with  the  exception  of  a  few 
married  men  who  had  houses  just  outside  the 
borders  of  the  school  grounds. 

To  a  singular  degree  the  school,  in  its  shap- 
ing and  reshaping,  expressed  the  ideals  and 
convictions  of  the  man  who  was  at  its  head. 
Vitally  significant  were  those  words  of  John 
Meigs',  already  quoted :  "  I  am  glad  I  am  not 
hampered  and  can  carry  out  my  own  ideas 
and  ideals."  ,What  he  meant,  of  course,  was 
his  freedom  from  dictation  by  others  who 
might  not  have  seen  the  school's  opportuni- 
ties, nor  have  possessed  the  venturesome  im- 
agination which  would  have  sanctioned  dar- 
ing plans.  In  the  formative  years  of  the 
school  there  was  no  board  of  trustees  to  which 
he  was  subordinate.  The  upbuilding  of  the 
school  was  his  task,  his  responsibility  and  his 
chance.  Obstacles  there  were,  of  course,  and 
exceeding  difficulties;  but  at  least,  unshackled 
by  any  interferences,  he  could  measure  against 
them  his  full  strength.  The  financial  problem 
after  the  second  fire  was  a  grave  one,  even 
as  it  had  been  at  the  time  of  the  school's  be- 
ginning. Meigs  had  to  trust  to  his  own  ener- 
gies and  his  powers  to  convince  men  with 
financial  resources  of  the  soundness  of  his 
plans,  if  he  should  ever  hope  to  equal  what 


1 40      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

a  school  with  a  large  endowment  might 
achieve.  Much  money  was  needed  to  build 
the  new  buildings,  and  to  make  possible  the 
constant  enlargement  of  the  grounds  and  the 
beautifying  of  the  whole  school  plant  which 
Meigs'  unresting  imagination  conceived.  It 
was  necessary  that  he  should  borrow  sums 
so  large  that  a  timid  man  would  have  flinched 
from  the  risk  of  them,  and  have  chosen  in- 
stead to  be  content  with  narrower  and  less 
eager  ideals  of  what  the  school  might  come 
to  be.  But  it  was  characteristic  of  John  Meigs 
that,  as  he  projected  greatly,  so  he  flung  ac- 
tion forward  on  the  heels  of  thought.  He 
knew  what  he  wanted  to  do  with  The  Hill, 
and  he  believed  in  his  plans  so  thoroughly 
that  he  was  able  to  make  others  believe  in 
them  too.  "  The  name  of  John  Meigs  was 
collateral  enough  for  me,"  said  the  president  of 
a  Pottstown  bank  who  had  loaned  him  large 
sums  of  money.  Into  the  school,  year  after 
year,  and  into  the  repayment  of  the  money 
which  had  been  loaned  to  enlarge  it,  went 
the  surplus  that  had  been  left  from  the  pre- 
vious session.  So  its  borders  grew,  and  the 
compass  of  its  walls  widened.  The  number 
of  boys  who  could  be  taken  increased  to  one 
hundred  in  1890,  and  to  two  hundred  and 
twenty-five  in  1900.  On  the  shoulders  of 
the  man  who  carried  his  great  responsibility 


IDEALS  FOR  THE  SCHOOL         141 

the  burden  of  debt  was  a  heavy  load,  which' 
to  the  end  of  his  life  was  never  lifted;  but 
he  bore  it  gladly  for  the  sake  of  his  knowl- 
edge that  little  by  little  he  was  building  his 
ideals  into  reality. 

Often  we  may  learn  much  as  to  a  man's 
purpose  by  understanding  his  admirations. 
In  the  figures  whom  he  looked  up  to,  we  may 
find  the  interpretation  of  many  of  his  own 
conceptions  of  nobility  and  success.  For  John 
Meigs  there  were  two  men  who  stood  as  ex- 
emplars of  much  that  he  believed  the  head  of 
a  great  school  ought  to  be.  One  was  Thomas 
Arnold,  of  Rugby;  the  other  was  Edward 
Thring,  of  Uppingham. 

Of  these  two,  it  was  to  Thring,  particularly, 
that  Meigs  looked  with  a  peculiar  glow  of 
sympathetic  regard.  In  many  curious  paral- 
lels— set  off,  too,  by  sharp  contrasts  not  the 
less  significant — Thring's  problems  and  deep 
trials  were  like  those  which  Meigs  knew  as 
his  own,  and  with  Thring's  ambitions  and 
ideals  he  felt  an  intuitive  kinship.  In  1853, 
the  year  after  John  Meigs  was  born,  Thring 
became  headmaster  of  Uppingham,  one  of  the 
older  schools  of  England,  founded  in  its  little 
Midland  town  by  Robert  Johnson,  Archdea- 
con of  Leicester,  in  1584.  Old  as  it  was,  the 
school  was  still  comparatively  insignificant  in 
equipment,  numbers  and  standing.  When 


142      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

Thring  came  to  if,  if  had  only  twenty-five 
boys  and  two  assistant  masters,  an  antiquated 
master's  house  and  a  sixteenth  century  school- 
room. The  endowment  was  so  meager  as 
to  give  little  or  no  support  for  hopeful  plan- 
ning, and  Thring  had  very  small  means  of 
his  own.  Worst  of  all,  he  was  hampered — 
as  John  Meigs  rejoiced  that  he  never  was — 
by  a  board  which  governed  the  trust  funds 
of  the  foundation,  and  from  the  majority  of 
this  board,  men  who  were  narrow-visioned, 
timid  and  stubborn,  Thring  received  in  the 
years  of  his  heaviest  struggling  not  help,  but 
wearying  hindrance.  Yet  single-handed  he 
set  himself  to  the  task  of  taking  the  obscure 
and  ill-furnished  school  and  lifting  it  to  com- 
manding rank.  From  the  beginning,  he  had 
certain  clear  ideals  to  which  he  clung  with 
an  intensity  of  conviction  which  was  never 
shaken,  even  when  if  seemed  sometimes  as 
though  his  loyalty  to  them  might  cost  the 
very  existence  of  the  school  itself.  He  felt 
that  the  schools  of  England,  and  the  system 
which  they  had  made  familiar,  were  vitally 
deficient  in  two  respects:  in  the  first  place, 
that  their  teaching  was  arranged  for  the  ben- 
efit of  the  brilliant  boys,  while  the  classes 
were  so  large  and  the  instructors  so  few  that 
the  average  boys  were  left  to  shift  indiffer- 
ently for  themselves;  and  that,  in  the  second 


IDEALS  FOR  THE  SCHOOL         143 

place,  picturesque  as  many  of  the  schools 
were,  yet  in  the  matter  of  actual  adaptability 
to  the  good  of  the  boys,  both  physical  and 
moral,  they  were  often  crude  and  sometimes 
almost  dangerous.  The  standards  which 
Thring  lifted  up  required  courage  and  de- 
termination of  the  highest  sort  to  maintain. 
His  protest  against  conditions  with  which  he 
believed  England  too  complacently  to  have 
been  satisfied  roused  the  hostility  of  the 
friends  of  the  great  schools  which  by  implica- 
tion he  criticized;  and  the  application  of  his 
ideals  to  Uppingham  itself  meant  an  expendi- 
ture upon  teaching  force  and  upon  buildings 
so  out  of  proportion  to  the  parallel  expendi- 
tures in  other  schools,  and  so  far  outstripping 
the  resources  of  the  small  endowment,  that 
the  burden  of  debt  at  times  almost  crushed 
Thring's  spirit.  He  poured  into  the  school 
all  the  money  he  himself  had;  he  found  now 
and  then  a  man  whom  his  own  enthusiasm 
inspired  to  share  his  ideals  and  his  sacrifices, 
and  these  men  came  to  be  masters  at  Upping- 
ham under  him,  to  help  build  up  the  school 
which  Thring  had  dreamed. 

When  success  seemed  at  last  to  have  been 
won,  there  came  in  1876 — the  year  in  which 
John  Meigs  went  to  The  Hill — a  disaster 
which  all  but  annihilated  the  school.  Ty- 
phoid fever  had  broken  out  in  the  fall  term 


144      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

previous,  and  there  had  been  great  uneasiness 
among  the  parents,  and  such  real  danger  to 
the  boys  that  Thring  closed  the  school  in 
November  until  after  Christmas.  He  did  his 
utmost,  meanwhile,  to  probe  the  cause  of  the 
fever  to  the  bottom,  and  was  convinced  that 
the  drains  of  the  town  of  Uppingham  were  to 
blame.  In  the  school  itself  he  did  everything 
which  the  severest  experts  could  suggest  in 
the  way  of  precaution,  but  the  jealous  stub- 
bornness of  petty  officials  blocked  his  efforts 
at  a  drastic  reformation  of  conditions  in  the 
town;  and  he  faced  the  opening  of  the  winter 
term  of  1876  with  an  apprehensive  heart.  It 
was  not  long  before  the  fever  broke  out  among 
the  boys  again,  this  time  more  virulent  and 
deadly  than  before.  There  was  nothing  left 
but  to  break  up  the  school  a  second  time  and 
send  the  boys  home  till  none  knew  when. 
"  One  thing  I  feel  sure  of,"  Thring  wrote  in 
anguish  of  spirit,  "  that  this  is  the  beginning 
of  the  end."  Yet  in  this  darkest  hour,  when 
his  heart  and  hope  were  almost  gone,  Thring' s 
courage,  nevertheless,  girded  itself  up  again 
for  the  one  herculean  venture  that  could  save 
the  school.  He  determined  to  transplant  it 
bodily.  When  the  boys  had  reached  their 
homes,  and  the  news  had  come  that  the  par- 
ents of  some  of  them  were  already  casting 
about  for  other  schools,  Thring  sent  a  letter 


IDEALS  FOR  THE  SCHOOL         145 

to  them  all,  saying  that  Uppingham  would  re- 
open after  Easter  in  a  new  location  as  yet  to 
be  arranged.  Then  began  what  he  called  in 
grimmest  truth,  "a  fierce  race  for  life."  A 
place  fit  for  the  school  had  first  to  be  found, 
then  secured,  and  then  the  plans  made  to 
establish  the  school  there  as  an  actual  work- 
ing reality;  and  every  day's  difference  in  prog- 
ress or  delay  was  of  desperate  importance. 

Thring  succeeded.  On  March  27th,  the 
school  reopened  in  a  building  that  had  been 
a  hotel,  on  the  sea-coast  of  Wales,  at  Borth. 
Until  Easter,  1877,  or  a  full  year,  the  school 
remained  in  Wales,  and  then,  when  the  town 
of  Uppingham,  chastened  by  much  suffering, 
had  corrected  the  conditions  which  the  stub- 
born stupidity  of  its  officials  caused,  the  school 
moved  back  to  its  old  home.  Though  the 
stay  at  Borth  itself  had  been  made  beauti- 
fully memorable  by  the  glory  of  the  sea-coast, 
and  the  cordiality  of  the  people,  the  year,  of 
course,  had  been  marked  by  terrible  anxieties 
and  great  financial  burdens  for  Thring  and  his 
assistant  masters  through  the  double  trans- 
fer. When  the  school  was  established  at  Up- 
pingham again,  there  were  those  among  the 
trustees  and  the  masters  who  wanted  to  in- 
crease the  size  of  the  school,  in  order  that 
the  masters'  losses  might  be  made  up  by 
increased  revenues  from  the  boarding  pupils 


146      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

in  their  several  houses.  But  even  under 
the  pressure  of  the  new  and  almost  crush- 
ing difficulties,  Thring's  insistence  upon  his 
ideals  never  flinched.  It  had  been  from  the 
beginning  his  conviction  that  for  the  proper 
training  of  all  the  boys  under  the  guidance 
of  one  spirit  in  the  system  of  Uppingham, 
it  was  essential  that  the  school  should  not 
exceed  three  hundred  and  thirty  or  three  hun- 
dred and  forty  boys.  That  point  it  had 
reached;  and  Thring  absolutely  refused  to  al- 
low that  number  to  be  passed,  no  matter 
what  conceivable  emergency  should  seem  to 
furnish  an  argument  for  a  modification  in  his 
principle.  He  would  not,  he  said,  increase  the 
school's  prosperity  and  "  ruin  its  life."  In  this 
matter,  as  in  others,  the  masters  under  him 
rallied  finally  to  his  side.  Uppingham  con- 
tinued according  to  the  ideals  which  Thring 
had  shaped  for  it  from  the  first;  and  before 
his  gallant  life  came  to  its  end,  in  1887,  there 
were  many  in  England  who  held  him  to  be  the 
strongest  and  most  constructive  force  in  the 
life  of  the  great  schools  of  the  nation. 

The  story  of  what  Thring  was  doing  and 
had  done  in  Uppingham  brought  its  brave 
message  to  John  Meigs  in  his  often  similar 
task  across  the  seas.  He  shared  to  the  utter- 
most Thring's  fundamental  belief  that  a 
school,  in  the  first  place,  should  be  made  not 


IDEALS  FOR  THE  SCHOOL        14? 

the  harsh  arena  from  which  the  exceptional 
boy  might  come  out  victorious,  but  in  which 
the  average  boy  should  be  submerged;  but 
that  it  should  be  molded  instead  by  that 
spirit  of  the  true  home  in  which  the  least  en- 
dowed is  given  by  love  an  equal  chance  to 
develop  the  utmost  of  which  he  is  capable. 
And,  in  the  second  place,  he  believed,  as 
Thring  did,  that  for  a  school  to  attain  this 
ideal  meant  an  infinitely  patient  and  thorough, 
and  also  a  very  costly,  planning  of  its  build- 
ings, its  surroundings,  its  system  of  teaching 
and  its  life. 

It  was  because  of  this  that  Meigs  in  the 
building  of  the  school  was  continually  reach- 
ing out  for  the  best  that  could  be  constructed 
for  the  welfare  of  the  boys.  It  was  because 
of  this,  too,  that  he  never  approved  of  great 
dormitories  in  which  considerable  numbers  of 
boys  slept  within  the  same  walls,  but  provided 
instead  for  boys  to  be  alone,  or  with  only  one 
roommate,  so  that  the  individuality  of  differ- 
ent boys  might  thus  be  recognized  and  re- 
spected. 

In  those  things  also  which  had  to  do  not 
with  the  essential  construction,  but  with  the 
adornment  of  the  school,  Meigs  believed  in- 
tuitively in  the  same  principles  which  Thring 
worked  out  at  Uppingham.  He  loved  beauti- 
ful things  himself,  and  he  felt  that  the  silent 


i48      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

ministry  of  beautiful  things  about  them  would 
have  its  steady,  ennobling  effect  upon  the 
boys  at  The  Hill.  Not  only,  therefore,  did 
he  put  upon  the  walls  of  the  great  schoolroom 
busts  and  pictures,  but  he  put  these  also  in 
the  many  recitation  rooms  where  the  boys 
went  for  their  various  classes.  In  the  Greek 
room,  for  instance,  were  representations  of 
the  friezes  of  the  Parthenon;  in  the  Latin 
room,  photographs  of  Rome.  And  on  the 
walls  of  all  the  corridors  of  the  school  were 
other  great  framed  prints  and  engravings 
which  brought  their  constant  suggestion  of 
the  noblest  buildings  and  paintings  of  the 
world.  Meigs  did  not  happen  to  write  down 
what  was  in  this  thought  when  he  did  this, 
but  doubtless  his  idea  was  like  that  which 
Thring  expressed  when  he  said  in  one  of  his 
letters :  "  I  have  just  got  a  new  forward  move. 
You  may  remember  perhaps  the  photographs 
in  my  classroom  and  the  idea  of  culture 
through  them.  Well,  I  have  got  twenty-six 
magnificent  autotypes  of  ancient  art  in  upper 
school  now,  and  I  mean  to  turn  out  by  de- 
grees all  the  mean  furniture  in  the  room,  and 
I  hope  that  this  will  make  the  low  views  and 
meannesses  connected  with  lessons  and  learn- 
ing drop  off  by  the  mere  force  of  fine  sur- 
roundings, just  as  good  surroundings  have 
made  the  whole  domestic  life  of  the  school 


IDEALS  FOR  THE  SCHOOL         149 

higher,  and  freed  it  from  tricks  and  petty 
savagery."  And  again  he  said,  "  It  is  hard 
to  escape  something  of  the  pig  if  lodged  in 
a  sty.  The  schoolboy  has  not  escaped  and 
never  will  till  honor  to  lessons  is  the  first  ar- 
ticle in  the  nation's  secular  creed.  Everything 
that  meets  the  eye  ought  to  be  perfect,  ac- 
cording to  the  work  and  workers,  as  human 
skill  can  make  it.  Give  honor,  you  will  re- 
ceive honor.  I  know  that  boys  respond  with 
honor  when  they  and  their  life-work  are 
honored." 

In  deeper  and  more  intimate  things  also 
than  the  plans  for  the  visible  aspects  of  the 
school  John  Meigs  rejoiced  in  that  sense  of 
spiritual  comradeship  with  Thring  which  one 
strong  man  feels  with  another — though  far, 
away  and  never  seen — who  is  grappling  nobly 
with  such  problems  as  he  himself  must  face. 
Many  of  the  ways  in  which  the  work  he  did 
resembled  Thring's  had,  of  course,  in  Meigs' 
case  no  relationship  to  Thring  as  example; 
through  his  own  thought  and  by  the  impulse 
of  his  own  character  he  arrived  at  many  of 
the  conclusions  which  the  master  of  Upping- 
ham  also  had  worked  out.  But  when  he  did 
come  to  know  of  Thring,  and  to  read  what  he 
had  written,  and  what  others  had  written 
about  him,  Meigs  was  swift  to  acknowledge 
the  inspiration  he  and  all  other  schoolmasters 


150      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

might  receive  from  him.  Thring's  great  cour- 
age, his  costly  devotion  to  his  clear  ideals, 
the  authority  of  his  rulership  because  that 
rulership  was  built  upon  a  loyalty  to  some- 
thing higher  than  himself,  and  the  intense  re- 
ligious consecration  of  all  his  work,  made  his 
personality  seem  peculiarly  near  and  glowing 
to  John  Meigs.  In  his  own  trials  at  The  Hill, 
and  especially  in  that  most  bitter  crisis  so  like 
the  great  crisis  at  Uppingham — the  typhoid 
epidemic  of  which  the  story  is  to  come — he 
turned  to  Thring's  revelation  of  the  travail  of 
his  own  soul  for  strength  and  patience  and 
power. 

To  return,  however,  to  the  matter  of  the 
school  itself,  its  principles  and  its  organiza- 
tion, we  are  not  left  to  comparisons  to  know 
what  Meigs  was  thinking.  As  has  been  said 
before,  he  kept  no  diary  nor  book  in  which  he 
wrote  down  his  meditations;  but  he  made  an 
address  once  on,  "The  Ideals  of  the  Home 
School,"  the  manuscript  of  which  is  preserved, 
and  in  that  he  sets  forth  some  of  the  beliefs 
which  he  built  into  the  fabric  of  The  Hill. 

The  first  part  of  it  ran  as  follows; 

"  In  Ihe  ideal  home  boys  are  early  taught 
obedience,  truthfulness,  purity,  unselfishness, 
service,  '  self-reverence,  self-knowledge,  self- 
control — these  three  alone  lead  life  to  sov- 
ereign power/ 


PROFESSOR  JOHN  MEIGS  AT  THE  AGE  OF  THIRTY- 
FOUR 


IDEALS  FOR  THE  SCHOOL         151 

"  The  ideal  home  for  the  growing  boy 
should  be  in  the  country,  with  a  first-rate 
school  within  easy  distance,  suitable  compan- 
ions at  hand,  and  parents  who  can  devote  a 
fair  amount  of  time  to  their  children.  But 
most  people  to-day  are  dwellers  in  a  city, 
where  opportunities  for  the  physical  develop- 
ment of  a  boy  are  few,  and  where  the  whirl 
of  life  is  so  dizzying,  and  engagements  so  pre- 
occupying, that  family  life  is  little  more  than 
a  tradition  of  happier  days. 

"And  so  it  conies  to  pass  that  boarding- 
schools  confront  the  parent,  as  the  alternative 
to  the  mutilated  conditions  of  existence  that 
environ  the  boy  in  his  city  home.  .  .  . 

"There  must  be  change  at  every  step  we 
take,  as  boys  or  men;  there  must  be  new 
things  to  be  learnt,  new  experiences  to  be 
bought.  But  ah  absolute  break  there  need 
never  be,  if  love  takes  the  place  in  our  lives 
it  should  take;  takes  such  a  place  that  every 
new  fact,  every  new  experience  can  be  referred 
back  to  the  one  place  where  we  learnt  the 
meaning  of  love  in  its  finest  sense — home. 

"After  all,  the  life  of  a  boy  in  a  home  school 
of  the  best  sort  is  not  much  different  from  the 
life  of  a  boy  in  a  home  of  the  best  sort.  The 
family  is  much  larger;  the  love  of  the  father 
and  mother  may  not  be  there ;  but  a  love  high 
and  devoted  is  there. 

"There  is  the  mother  of  the  family  who 
brings  the  spirit  of  love  and  refinement  into 
this  throng  of  growing  lads,  who  instinctively 
understands  them  and  comforts  them  and  fills 
them  with  a  high  sense  of  the  glory  and 


i52      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

beauty  of  womanhood;  who  tirelessly  toils 
and  strives,  and  prays  her  great  household 
through  the  tempestuous  period  of  her  high 
commission;  who  fulfills  even  the  hope  of  par- 
ents who  seem  to  trust  that  the  love  of  others 
for  their  children  will  be  more  unselfish  than 
their  own;  who  becomes,  in  sooth,  the  very 
Madonna  of  manifold  lives. 

"There  is  the  definite  concentrated  influ- 
ence due  to  the  line  taken  by  the  headmaster 
upon  the  various  points  in  the  education  of 
boys,  and  handed  on  by  him  to  the  members 
of  his  staff,  and  to  whom  the  boy  looks  for 
final  judgment. 

"There  are  the  masters  with  whom  he 
freely  associates,  whose  personality  is  more 
than  books  and  knowledge  and  teaching  and 
skill  combined — the  greatest  power  in  the 
world ; — 

"  Men  who  are  living  epistles  read  of  every 
boy — the  familiar  companions  of  the  boys  in 
sports  as  well  as  studies — no  longer  as  in  the 
olden  time  looked  upon  as  moral  policemen, 
but  lovers  of  boys,  who  in  their  love  are  will- 
ing to  give  much  of  their  time  to  their  up- 
building, to  sacrifice  much  of  their  worldly 
interest ; — 

"  Men  of  good  scholarship  and  of  fine  char- 
acter who  have  not  failed  in  other  things,  nor 
are  trying  to  make  a  living  while  they  are 
preparing  to  enter  the  public  ministry  or  the 
law; — 

"  Men  whose  ministry  is  as  sacred  and  de- 
voted as  that  upon  which  the  formal  hands  of 
consecration  have  been  laid — whole-souled, 


IDEALS  FOR  THE  SCHOOL         153 

red-blooded,  glorious  men  who  give  them- 
selves and  everything  they  are  and  have  to 
help  develop  men  for  the  nation, — 

"  Such  masters  there  are,  and  when  the 
young  boy  meets  them  on  the  threshold  of 
his  home-school  life,  he  enters  an  atmosphere 
of  affection  and  devotion  to  lofty  ideals — the 
essentials  of  the  Christian  life. 

"And  then,  perhaps,  best  of  all  in  this 
greater  household  in  which  the  boys  and 
masters  and  the  family  of  the  headmaster 
meet  at  table,  at  work,  at  play,  at  worship, 
and  sleep  under  the  same  roof,  are  the  loyal- 
hearted  Upper  Form  boys  who,  the  elder 
brothers  of  the  family,  act  as  guides,  advisers 
and  heroes  for  the  younger  boys  to  follow 
and  worship. 

"As  time  goes  on,  the  new-boy's  relations 
to  these  people  change.  He  becomes  an  older 
boy  himself.  The  mother  and  the  head  of  the 
house  are  his  close  friends,  with  whom  he 
discusses  freely  his  possible  services  to  other 
boys,  becoming  thus  a  fellow  worker  with  the 
masters  to  prevent  evil,  to  keep  the  whole 
body  sound. 

"Advantage  is  taken  of  the  intense  admira- 
tion which  the  younger  boys  have  for  their 
elders  in  the  school,  and  these  latter  are 
trained  to  take  responsibility  and  strong  posi- 
tions against  evil  and  for  righteousness,  and 
to  go  to  college  committed  in  their  own  minds 
to  clean  living. 

"Teachers  who  love  boys  who  are  bent: 
upon  righteousness  and  boys  who  will  sympa- 
thize with  the  masters  in  trying  to  establish 


154      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

pure  and  clean  and  righteous  living  in  the 
school,  are  the  great  powers.  With  these  co- 
workers,  in  a  question  of  moral  principle  a 
boy  is  taken  in  hand  and  helped  to  break  up 
a  bad  habit  before  it  has  taken  firm  hold  of 
him.  Discipline  becomes  different  from  that 
of  the  old-time  schools. 

"  It  need  not  be  said  that  the  standards  of 
scholarship  in  the  home  school  must  be  of  the 
highest.  Where  close  and  confidential  rela- 
tionships beget  such  intimacies  of  mind  and 
soul  between  boys  and  masters  as  are  the 
most  stimulating  forces  in  life,  the  heart 
strengthens  the  will  to  firmer  purpose  and 
kindles  the  brain  to  more  ardent  employ- 
ments. .  .  . 

"  There  is  an  absence  of  rigor  in  restricting, 
to  one  grade,  the  work  of  each  boy.  He  is 
individualized,  in  respect  of  his  mental  and 
temperamental  characteristics,  and  may  pur- 
sue, for  instance,  science,  history,  language 
and  mathematics  on  different  levels,  condi- 
tioned only  by  the  demands  of  the  university 
or  technical  school  to  which  he  may  later  seek 
admission. 

"  From  such  a  school  the  graduates  go  well- 
equipped  for  college,  for  life.  Some  may  sink, 
some  do;  but  they  know  what  is  right,  they 
have  looked  into  the  very  heart  of  a  life  which 
is  strong  and  sound  and  pulsating  for  others, 
and  they  will  never  be  satisfied  with  material, 
sordid,  irresponsible  views  of  life  which  the 
world  may  try  to  impress  upon  them. 

"And  to  such  a  school  the  old  boys  fre- 
quently return,  too  often,  perhaps,  as  to  the 


IDEALS  FOR  THE  SCHOOL         155 

real  home  of  their  souls — whose  standards  of 
service  loyally  upheld,  whose  high  expecta- 
tions sacredly  cherished  and  whose  loving  be- 
hests eagerly  accepted  stimulate  the  spiritual 
sons  of  the  great  household  to  conquests 
worthy  of  the  high  devotion  that  blessed  their 
boyhood  and  of  the  yearning  solicitude  and 
affection  that  attend  their  onward  life. 

"  The  school  becomes  to  these  a  haven  of 
imperishable  sympathies  and  high  aspirations. 
The  touch  of  sorrow  and  the  kindling  of  a 
new  joy  alike  send  quivering  home  the  sad- 
dened or  the  gladdened  son  of  spirit-birth,  for 
comfort  or  for  chiding  or  for  joy  perfected  by 
the  sharing  of  its  great  gifts  with  those  who 
may  have  first  laid  its  foundations  in  the  pure 
standards  of  reverent  living. 

"  This  relationship  neither  time  nor  change 
can  dissolve — and  maturer  years  can  only 
strengthen  because  into  it  have  entered  the 
eternal  things  of  life  and  character  that  rest 
in  the  unchangeable  God." 

As  John  Meigs  described  thus  his  concep- 
tion of  what  a  school  ought  to  be,  he  was,  as 
a  matter  of  fact,  describing  also  what  he  was 
trying  to  make  true  at  The  Hill.  From  the 
beginning,  he  had  sought  to  create  in  the 
school  such  an  atmosphere  and  influence  as 
should  bring  to  the  boys  what  a  home  at  its 
best  might  give. 

When  he  spoke  of  "  the  mother  of  the  fam- 
ily who  prays  her  great  household  through 


156       THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

the  tempestuous  period  of  her  high  commis- 
sion and  who  becomes,  in  sooth,  the  very  Ma- 
donna of  manifold  lives,"  he  was  thinking 
of  one  whom  he  might  not  name,  but  of  whose 
likeness  to  that  ideal  his  own  heart — and  the 
hearts  of  scores  of  boys  at  The  Hill — well 
knew.  That  which,  joined  to  the  influence  of 
John  Meigs  himself,  more  than  any  other 
thing  set  the  tone  and  created  the  spirit  of 
The  Hill  was  the  touch  of  Mrs.  Meigs  upon 
the  boys.  In  the  lovely  "  sky-parlor,"  up  in 
the  high  tower  of  the  old  stone  building 
of  the  headmaster's  house,  with  its  wide  win- 
dows looking  out  over  the  tranquil  trees, 
many  a  boy  in  his  talks  with  her  has  caught 
the  gleam  of  new  meanings  for  his  life,  and 
gone  down  to  the  school  again  with  the  power 
of  finer  purpose  in  his  soul. 

Next  in  importance  to  the  headmaster  and 
his  wife  in  influence  upon  the  boys  were,  of 
course,  the  other  masters.  Meigs  realized 
well  that  for  the  effective  transmission  of  his 
ideals  to  the  great  body  of  the  boys,  it  was 
imperative  that  he  should  gather  about  him 
a  group  of  men  who  were  both  ready  and  able 
to  share  his  convictions  as  to  what  the  school 
ought  to  be  and  to  interpret  those  convictions 
in  daily  work.  He  was  lavish  in  his  efforts, 
therefore,  to  get  and  keep  the  best  men  he 
could  find.  He  made  his  scale  of  salaries 


IDEALS  FOR  THE  SCHOOL         157 

large— far  larger,  for  instance,  than  the  scale 
for  similar  work  in  the  colleges.  He  required 
obedience  to  the  laws  and  standards  of  The 
Hill;  but,  as  he  never  flinched  from  giving 
necessary  criticism  and  correction,  so  also  he 
was  generous  in  his  recognition  of  work  well 
done.  He  valued  scholarship  and  thorough 
teaching;  but  he  valued  the  kind  of  rounded 
manhood  which  boys  would  look  up  to  even 
more. 

He  wrote  in  a  letter  to  a  friend  at  one  of 
the  universities  who  had  suggested  a  man  for 
a  position  at  The  Hill: 

"  Let  me  hear  from  you  with  reference  to 
the  matter,  and  if  you  have  in  mind  another 
man — for  I  shall  make  two  or  three  changes — 
I  shall  be  pleased  to  hear  of  him.  You  know 
the  kind  I  am  wanting  here.  First  of  all,  I 
say  unhesitatingly  they  must  be  Christian 
gentlemen.  Brilliant  scholarship  is  a  good 
thing,  but  not  so  good  a  thing  as  an  earnest 
nature  supplemented  by  the  discipline  of  con- 
scientious work  during  four  years,  without 
perhaps  the  dazzling  record  for  exact  knowl- 
edge that  some  men  easily  attain;  and  I  am 
convinced  that  it  is  utter  folly  for  me  to  bring 
in  any  new  men  here  who  are  not  earnest 
Christian  men  primarily.  Secondly:  they 
should,  of  course,  have  distinct  ability  in  one 
line  or  another,  and  capacity  for  good  clean 
work,  along  with  a  healthful  interest  in  the. 
many-sided  life  of  school  boys." 


158      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

To  one  of  the  earlier  graduates  of  the  school 
who  was  thinking  of  coming  back  to  The  Hill 
as  a  master  he  wrote: 


"There  is  undoubtedly  a  wide  field  in  the 
teaching  profession,  and  a  whole-hearted  man 
of  character  and  energy  will  have  quick  recog- 
nition. The  heads,  and,  in  a  number  of  cases, 
assistants  in  the  various  departments,  are  per- 
manently attached  to  the  school,  and  it  is  my 
hope  that  as  the  years  go  on  changes  will 
become  still  more  infrequent.  I  want  the  men 
to  feel  that  they  are  really  engaged  here  in 
their  life-work,  and  that  the  good  work  they 
are  doing  secures  to  them  an  indefinite  tenure 
of  their  places,  so  far  as  their  own  comfort 
and  happiness  may  warrant  their  continuance 
here.  .  .  .  Teaching  is  a  great  work  and  a 
very  laborious  life,  and  yet  there  is  nothing 
in  it  to  deter  a  man  from  devoting  himself 
unreservedly  to  such  a  career  as  implies  so 
distinct  a  service  to  humankind.  Personally, 
I  enjoy  the  life  and  work  more  and  more." 

The  man  to  whom  this  letter  was  written, 
Mr.  Arthur  Judson,  did  come  to  The  Hill  to 
become  one  of  John  Meigs'  close  associates; 
and  after  his  death  Mr.  Judson  wrote  of  him : 

"As  a  headmaster  his  executive  capacity 
was  one  of  the  things  that  most  impressed 
me.  Although  he  was  not  a  good  speaker  and 
found  it  hard  to  make  a  matter  of  policy  clear 


IDEALS  FOR  THE  SCHOOL         159 

to  his  assembled  masters  without  the  use  of 
unnecessary  words,  he  continually  astonished 
us  by  the  quickness  with  which  he  grasped 
the  salient  facts  of  any  proposition  laid  be- 
fore him  and  saw  whether  it  were  practical 
or  the  reverse.  It  was  a  matter  of  common 
knowledge  that  if  a  man  had  something  to 
say  to  Professor  in  the  study,  he  would  do 
well  to  have  every  aspect  of  it  perfectly  clear 
in  his  mind  before  he  entered.  Otherwise,  he 
might  be  suddenly  interrupted,  and  hear  the 
entire  plan  presented,  argued  and  condemned 
by  Professor,  who  would  have  caught  the 
drift  of  it  from  the  first  two  or  three  sen- 
tences, and  instantly  have  seen  the  whole 
thing  clear  in  every  detail. 

"  Professor  had  a  very  high  conception  of 
the  ideal  Hill  schoolmaster,  and  ardently  de- 
sired that  every  man  on  the  force  should  see 
it  as  he  did.  He  tried  from  time  to  time  to 
express  his  ideas  on  this  subject  in  faculty 
meetings,  but  I  think  seldom  did  himself  jus- 
tice. I  used  to  wonder  why  it  was  so  hard 
for  him,  remembering  as  I  did  his  marvelous 
ability  as  a  teacher;  and  I  believe  the  solu- 
tion is  to  be  found  in  the  sensitiveness  of  his 
feeling  about  the  school.  The  Hill  and  its 
welfare  were  so  intimately  a  part  of  himself 
that  he  hesitated  to  speak  out  exactly  what 
he  felt.  But  when  things  had  gone  well — 
when  the  men  had  met  one  of  the  trying  times 
of  examinations,  closing  days  or  what  not,  or 
when  some  definite,  concrete  thing  had  gone 
wrong—then  he  was  able  to  speak  directly 
and  with  eloquence.  He  was  as  ready  with 


160      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

praise  as  with  blame,  but  he  needed  the  in- 
spiration of  an  accomplished  fact. 

"And  who  was  quicker  than  he  to  sympa- 
thize with  real  trouble,  to  give  sound  advice 
when  he  thought  it  was  needed,  to  settle 
financial  troubles  with  an  unexpected  check, 
and  pass  it  off  as  if  it  were  a  reward  for  serv- 
ice performed,  to  praise  work  well  done? 

"  Just  one  thing  more.  If  there  is  one  thing 
in  particular  that  I  personally  owe  to  him, 
it  is  the  ability  to  hang  on  when  things  are 
discouraging,  and  just  to  work,  and  work,  and 
keep  on  working.  That  tenacity  may  help  to 
save  some  of  us  inferior  mortals,  even  though 
it  never  leads  to  the  great  things  to  which 
those  who  are  not  great  oft  aspire." 

Of  the  same  kind  was  the  impression  he 
made  upon  another  of  the  masters,  Mr. 
Michael  F.  Sweeney,  of  whose  part  in  the  life 
of  the  school  more  is  to  be  said  presently.  Said 
he: 

"John  Meigs  had  the  unusual  but  most 
valuable  gift  in  a  headmaster  of  arousing 
enthusiasm  in  those  with  whom  he  came  in 
contact.  If  all  his  influences  could  be  gener- 
alized and  concentrated  into  one  idea,  I  should 
say  that  the  one  big  influence  he  gave,  quick- 
ened or  vitalized  in  me  was,  that  in  whatever 
activity  I  undertook  I  should  give  that  activity 
all  my  power. 

"  By  his  own  example  he  showed  me  that 
no  money,  time,  thought  or  energy  should 


IDEALS  FOR  THE  SCHOOL         161 

be  spared  in  order  to  equip  oneself,  partic- 
ularly in  one's  main  line  of  work.  He  aroused 
my  enthusiam  to  the  point  of  my  giving  for 
the  first  eight  years  of  my  life  at  The  Hill, 
over  two-thirds  of  my  summer  vacation  to 
study,  attending  summer  school,  etc.,  and 
often  suggested  to  pay  any  unusual  expense 
that  might  be  necessary  to  secure  such  train- 
ing. 

"  His  zeal  and  fire  were  contagious.  By 
his  own  example  he  lit  any  smouldering  fires 
that  were  lying  dormant  in  a  man's  nature. 
The  effect  of  his  personality  was  like  the  igni- 
tion of  an  electric  spark — one  could  scarcely 
keep  from  '  lighting  up.'  It  was  by  his  con- 
tinual stimulation  of  these  deeper  forces  in 
his  men  that  he  fed  and  kept  alive  the  interest 
of  most  of  his  teachers  in  their  chosen  line  of 
work.  He  had  tremendous  will-power,  and 
was  essentially  a  man  of  action.  He  made 
one  feel  that  thinking  and  feeling  were  not 
life  until  put  into  action;  that  an  idea,  no  mat- 
ter how  noble,  was  wasted  unless  it  was 
expressed." 

He  delivered  on  one  occasion  an  address  at 
Princeton  University  on  "  The  Master  Art  of 
Teaching,"  and  at  the  close  of  it  he  sounded 
that  high  note  of  consecration  which  was 
always  present  in  his  own  thought  of  the 
teacher's  work: 

"  The  school  is  not  a  knowledge-shop,  so 
much  as  a  great  assay  of  human  souls.  Edu- 


1 62      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

cation  means  making  the  most  of  each  and 
all.  By  making  the  many  capable  of  noble 
life,  the  weakness  that  becomes  strong  by  be- 
ing good,  is  given  a  fair  chance.  The  practice 
of  the  art  of  teaching,  therefore,  is  not  re- 
stricted to  one  type  of  mind  or  character. 
There  is  only  one  duty  for  the  teacher  to 
know — the  putting  first  the  boy's  life  and  its 
good.  We  shall  then  know  that  there  is  some- 
where a  key  to  every  human  soul,  and  we 
shall  realize  that  the  soul  is  trying  to  find  its 
way  out  far  more  eagerly  than  we  are  trying 
to  find  the  way  in. 
"  Browning  puts  it : 

"  To  know, 

Rather  consists  in  the  opening  out  a  way 
Whence  the  imprisoned  splendor  may  awake, 
Than  in  effecting  entry   for  a  light 
Supposed  to  be  without." 

"  To  him  who,  diffidently  disclaiming  all 
pretension  to  high  scholarship,  and  secretly 
yearning  to  render  high  service,  may  ponder 
his  fitness  to  enter  this  ministry,  let  me  as  an 
elder  brother  say  that  one's  very  brilliancy  of 
mind, — which  has  enabled  its  possessor  to 
surmount  easily  towering  obstacles,  and  thus 
lose  the  chastening  effort  of  acquisition — 
may  mark  the  bridgeless  chasm  between  the 
true  teacher,  who,  with  upbuilding  love, 
guides  tenderly  and  triumphantly  the  slowly 
plodding  mind,  and  him  whose  easy  growth 
in  knowledge  may  quench  sympathy  and  the 
capacity  for  love. 


IDEALS  FOR  THE  SCHOOL         163 

"  It  is  well  to  be  possessed  of  a  trained  and 
disciplined  intelligence,  to  have  access  to  the 
treasures  of  science  and  speculation,  to  know 
the  best  thoughts  of  the  wise,  and  the  sweet- 
est fancies  and  fairest  visions  that  have  vis- 
ited the  noblest  imaginations  of  our  own  and 
other  days;  but  it  is  no  mere  pious  truism  to 
add  that  the  final  standard  by  which  here  or 
hereafter  each  of  us  is  to  be  measured  is  not 
an  intellectual  one.  What,  rather,  is  the 
secret  moral  temper  of  our  spirit?  Are  we 
living,  not  to  do  our  own  will,  but  the  will 
of  God;  not  for  selfish  ambition  or  pleasure, 
but  for  the  good  of  others?  Are  we  in  sym- 
pathy with  that  life  which  was  the  manifes- 
tation of  the  eternal  love  and  goodness  to 
mankind? 

"  It  is,  after  all,  charity  to  the  soul  that  is 
the  soul  of  charity.  Here  is  the  largest 
sphere  of  the  teacher's  service.  We  who 
have  observed  the  onward  march  of  the  years 
towards  the  diviner  day  that  is  yet  to  be, 
have  a  right  and  duty  to  say  to  you  a  word 
of  good  cheer  and  of  hope  and  of  high  expec- 
tation. My  brothers,  the  time  is  coming 
when  .  .  .  He  who  is  Lord  of  Life  and 
Love  shall  ask  not  what  high  degree  of  aca- 
demic knowledge  you  have  won,  but  rather 
to  what  low  degree  of  humble  service  you 
have  been  exalted,  that  you  may  be  counted 
worthy  of  eternal  fellowship  with  Him  who 
was  the  greatest  Teacher  of  all,  because  more 
than  all  other  human  teachers  He  was  the 
servant  of  all.  In  simplest  verse  you  will  find 
His  will  for  your  life  and  for  mine: 


1 64      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

"  An  arm  of  aid  to  the  weak, 

A  friendly  hand  to  the  friendless, 
Kind  words  so  short  to  speak, 

But  whose  echo  is  endless ; 
The  world  is  wide,  these  things  are  small, 
They  may  be  little,  but  they  are  all." 

The  measure  in  which  the  finer  spirits 
among  the  masters  caught  and  shared  the 
ideals  of  John  Meigs  for  the  school  is  shown 
in  this  letter,  written  in  1907,  to  Mrs.  Meigs 
by  Mr.  Arthur  Judson.  Speaking  of  the  loy- 
alty of  the  Alumni,  he  says: 

"  If  that  spirit  lives  and  grows,  then  when 
we  are  all  dead  and  buried  God  will  still 
raise  up  men  and  women  to  carry  on  the 
work.  I  believe  that  given  any  such  high 
esprit  de  corps  .  .  .  the  ruling  motive  can- 
not fail  to  be  a  spiritual  one;  for  the  Holy 
Spirit  does  not  neglect  such  powerful  instru- 
ments to  its  purpose.  While  we  cannot  have 
the  power  of  centuries  behind  us  like  Eton 
and  Harrow,  I  see  no  reason  why  our  boys 
cannot  have  and  carry  the  tradition  of  cen- 
turies of  English  and  American  literature, 
and  nineteen  hundred  years  of  Christian  lib- 
erty. Since  I  began  this  humble  task — (the 
compiling  of  a  list  of  Hill  boys  from  the  be- 
ginning)— mere  statistics  though  it  be,  at  the 
outset,  it  has  led  my  thought  strangely  afar. 
In  the  attempt  to  weld  these  boys  more  closely 
into  a  unit,  I  begin  to  see  how  some  at  least 
of  our  masters — and  I  speak  mainly  for  my- 


IDEALS  FOR  THE  SCHOOL         165 

self — have  neglected  some  of  those  tremen- 
dous issues  in  the  interest  of  Latin  on  the  one 
hand,  or  athletics  on  the  other.  Great  as  The 
Hill  may  be  among  American  schools,  I  have 
a  vision  of  yet  greater  things.  If  only  our 
boys  can  be  imbued  with  a  true  sense  of  the 
real  grandeur  of  a  great  school  and  its  ideals 
and  traditions;  if  their  thought  can  be  di- 
rected to  the  great  world  into  which  they  are 
going,  with  the  desire  to  be  known  and  make 
themselves  known  as  sons  of  The  Hill;  and 
if  among  them  year  by  year  shall  be  Sixth 
Formers  with  the  humility  to  accept  respon- 
sibility and  the  dignity  to  command  respect, 
— what  may  they  not  accomplish?  You  and 
Professor  have  put  the  spiritual  motive  into 
the  school,  but  it  seems  to  me  it  is  the  part 
of  the  rest  of  us,  faculty  largely,  but  chiefly 
Alumni — to  realize  it  in  such  way  as  to  make 
it  seem  to  the  boys  not  as  something  handed 
down  to  them  from  above,  or  as  imposed  on 
them  by  authority,  but  as  ingrained  in  the 
very  fabric  of  the  structure,  a  part  of  the  very 
air  they  breathe  while  here,  bequeathed  by 
the  noble  examples  of  two  generations  of 
Hill  graduates  and  backed  by  the  influence 
of  the  whole  graduate  body.  In  this  young 
country,  if  we  cannot  be  descendants,  we  can 
at  least,  and  more  worthily,  become  ancestors 
of  unborn  generations.  There,  it  seems  to 
me,  is  a  thought  generally  overlooked — at 
least  I  do  not  remember  to  have  often  heard 
it — but  in  it  I  am  only  just  beginning  to  find 
my  true  inspiration.  ...  It  will  certainly 
sweeten  my  efforts  to  feel  that  I  begin  to 


1 66      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

understand  what  you  and  Professor  have  been 
aiming  at,  and  that  I  may  have  the  privilege 
of  revealing  it  to  some  other  life." 

But  the  depth  and  permanence  of  John 
Meigs*  influence  upon  the  men  who  served 
with  him  came  perhaps  to  fullest  conscious- 
ness in  those  who  from  The  Hill  went  out  to 
assume  for  themselves  in  other  places  tasks 
and  responsibilities  like  his.  One  of  the  men 
who  thus  passed  from  the  faculty  of  The  Hill 
to  more  commanding  work  was  Mr.  Frank 
W.  Pine,  now  headmaster  of  the  Oilman 
Country  School,  near  Baltimore;  and  the 
words  that  follow  are  from  him. 

"  I  shall  never  forget  either  my  first  visit  to 
The  Hill  or  the  first  weeks  and  months  spent 
there  as  a  teacher.  I  went  down  to  the  school 
for  a  week-end  in  response  to  a  telegram  from 
Professor.  I  can  still  feel  the  thrill  I  then 
experienced  for  the  first  time  as  I  both  saw 
and  heard  him  in  the  big  chair  by  the  desk 
in  the  old  schoolroom,  leading  the  singing  of 
that  powerful  hymn,  'We  march,  we  march, 
to  victory,  with  the  cross  of  the  Lord  before 
us/  I  can  still  remember  my  complete  en- 
joyment of  the  story,  'The  Birds'  Christmas 
Carol/  as  he  read  it  with  so  much  natural- 
ness and  spirit  on  that  December  night  nearly 
twenty  years  ago.  And  I  can  feel  even  now 
the  quiet  of  that  room  full  of  boys  as  Pro- 
fessor prayed  at  the  close  of  the  half  hour. 


IDEALS  FOR  THE  SCHOOL         167 

It  seemed  as  if,  like  Jacob  of  old,  he  wrestled 
with  the  Lord  as  he  pleaded  for  the  old  fel- 
lows in  college  or  out  in  the  world  and  for  the 
fellows  of  the  school.  The  affectionate  men- 
tion of  the  dear  ones  at  home,  ending  with 
the  petition  '  Help  us  to  honor  them  by  our 
more  faithful  service  here/  still  seems  to  me 
the  epitome  of  appeal  to  filial  devotion.  How 
many,  many  times  since  then  have  I  gone  from 
such  a  service,  after  such  a  prayer  with  all  its 
earnest  sincerity,  lifted  up  in  spirit  and  with 
a  new  resolve  for  better  service  and  more 
earnest  attempt  at  self-renunciation! 

"  From  those  early  days  of  my  life  as  a  Hill 
School  teacher,  I  recall  the  keen  pleasure 
which  I  had  in  sustained  effort  and  the  new 
zeal  for  accomplishment,  inspired  by  the  at- 
mosphere of  the  school  more  than  by  fear  of 
Professor's  displeasure  at  failure  or  short- 
coming, although  that  wholesome  fear  was 
undoubtedly  a  factor  in  my  service  as  in  that 
of  all  other  Hill  men.  I  felt  instinctively  that 
I  was  privileged  to  be  a  part  of  a  great  and 
growing  enterprise,  with  the  spirit  and  pur- 
pose of  which,  as  well  as  with  its  methods  and 
system,  I  was  completely  in  sympathy,  an 
enterprise  that  fixed  and  satisfied  my  ideals 
and  so  challenged  my  best  effort.  It  was  a 
little  world,  perhaps,  sheltered  by  his  power 
— you  felt  that — you  had  a  sense  of  security 
in  your  work — but  it  was  also  the  city  on  the 
hill,  whose  light  shone  out  far  and  wide. 
There  was  a  buoyancy,  a  spirit  of  energetic 
enthusiasm  that  was  contagious.  Everybody 
was  systematically  yet  happily  busy.  There 


1 68      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

seemed  to  be  never  an  idle  minute.  The  back- 
ground of  this  picture  was  equally  satisfying 
— a  combination  of  perfectly  kept  equipment 
and  quiet  appointments,  bespeaking  good 
breeding,  artistic  taste  and  culture.  Through 
it  all  appeared  a  seriousness  of  purpose  not 
obtrusive,  yet  hardly  concealed  by  the  various 
devices  for  interesting  the  boys  in  the  realities 
of  life  and  leading  them  more  or  less  uncon- 
sciously through  the  commonplace,  normal 
experiences  of  boyhood  to  the  contemplation 
of  the  things  of  the  mind  and  the  spirit. 
Whether  in  the  genial  and  comfortable  air 
of  the  dining-room,  amid  the  varied  activity 
of  the  athletic  field,  or  in  the  more  rarefied 
atmosphere  of  the  schoolroom  chapel,  there 
was  the  same  heartiness  and  stimulus,  physi- 
cal, intellectual  and  spiritual,  and  the  center 
of  it  all,  the  animating  spirit  of  this  city  on 
the  hill,  was  Professor.  As  time  went  on  I 
came  to  realize  more  and  more  that  Professor 
was  the  soul  of  that  enterprise.  It  was  the 
biggest  part  of  his  life  and  he  was  in  it  and 
through  it.  Its  ideals  were  his  ideals  and  its 
system  was  the  device  of  his  genius  for 
making  those  ideals  practical  and  applying 
them  to  the  everyday  problems  of  life.  There 
all  fine  character-molding  influences  were 
brought,  with  a  rare  discrimination  of  their 
values;  there  were  generated  also  high  ideals 
of  body,  mind  and  spirit;  ideals  of  sportsman- 
ship, of  civic  duty,  of  ethical  and  moral  prin- 
ciple, of  religious  conviction.  Such  ideals 
were  sure  to  receive  rude  shocks  when  they 
came  up  against  the  sordid  realities  of  life, 


IDEALS  FOR  THE  SCHOOL         169 

and  it  was  right  here  that  the  unusual  quality 
of  Professor's  character  displayed  itself.  Hand 
in  hand  with  the  constant  presentation  of 
these  ideals  went  a  stern  discipline,  a  severe 
training  of  all  the  faculties  of  mind  and  body 
that  generated  a  power  which  enabled  the 
ideals  more  often  than  not  to  survive  the 
shocks,  and  to  inspire  strong  purposeful  lives 
to  enduring  accomplishment,  as  witness  the 
type  of  service  now  being  rendered  by  Hill 
School  men  in  all  walks  of  life. 

"  The  great  thing  about  Professor  was  this 
fine  balance  in  his  strong  character  between 
the  ideal  and  the  practical.  His  sun-clad 
vision  was  constantly  lifted  to  the  hills  from 
whence  came  his  help,  yet  his  feet  were 
firmly  planted  on  the  earth.  He  had  hitched 
his  wagon  to  a  star,  but  the  axle  was  always 
greased.  You  felt  here  was  a  soul  inspired 
by  a  lofty  ideal,  a  noble  aspiration;  here  was 
a  dreamer  of  dreams,  yet  no  visionary  senti- 
mentalist— all  about  you  both  in  material 
things  and  in  the  life  of  the  school  and  the 
accomplishment  of  old  Hill  fellows  were  in- 
disputable evidences  that  he  had  the  power 
and  gift  to  make  his  dreams  substantial 
realities.  In  this  daily  contemplation  of  great 
faith  and  concomitant  works,  you  were  made 
hopeful  of  your  own  emotional  impulses 
and  only  ashamed  when  you  failed  to 
translate  spiritual  exaltation  into  concrete 
action. 

"  Only  those  who  have  gone  out  from  the 
protecting  shadow  of  The  Hill,  with  its  won- 
derful system  perfected  in  every  detail,  to 


1 70      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

struggle  with  problems  of  school  life  and  ad- 
ministration in  the  making  can  appreciate  to 
the  full  the  debt  of  gratitude  that  every  man 
who  came  under  the  influence  of  his  person- 
ality and  character  owes  to  John  Meigs.  In 
the  first  years  of  my  work  as  a  headmaster, 
when  I  was  confronted  by  many  and  varied 
problems,  I  found  that  I  invariably  asked  my- 
self the  question,  '  What  would  Professor  do 
in  this  case?'  and  the  astounding  thing  to 
me  was  that  just  as  invariably  I  seemed  to 
find  the  answer.  I  had  stored  away  in  my 
mind  unconsciously  a  very  clear  impression 
of  what  he  would  do  under  the  circumstances. 
I  have  no  doubt  my  experience  has  been 
that  of  the  many  other  men  who  have  gone 
out  from  The  Hill  into  executive  positions, 
only  to  find  how  great  is  the  debt  they  owe 
to  the  spirit  and  genius  of  the  great  Head- 
master under  whose  guiding  influence  our 
powers  were  trained,  our  characters  molded, 
our  ideals  fixed." 

And  from  under  the  shadow  of  the  great 
war,  Professor  W.  S.  Milner,  of  the  Univer- 
sity of  Toronto,  Canada,  who  also  was  once 
a  master  at  The  Hill,  thus  expressed  what 
the  spirit  of  John  Meigs  meant  to  the  lives 
it  touched: 

"  I  could  wish  no  greater  thing  for  my 
country,  in  this  great  hour  of  her  history, 
than  the  appearance  at  the  close  of  the  war 
of  only  a  few  such  schoolmasters.  They 


IDEALS  FOR  THE  SCHOOL         171 

would  affect  our  whole  future.  For  it  is  the 
simple  truth  that  here  was  a  man  with  a 
genius  for  organization,  with  abounding  vital- 
ity and  a  passionate  zest  for  life,  with  ex- 
traordinary power  over  his  fellow  men,  living 
in  a  period  when  the  fantastic  could  be  made 
the  actual,  who  deliberately  put  from  him 
thoughts  of  material  achievement,  and  gave 
himself  not  to  the  bending  or  breaking,  but 
to  the  making  of  men." 


In  the  address  on  "The  Ideal  Home 
School," — the  first  address  from  which  we 
quoted — John  Meigs  goes  on  after  speaking 
of  the  masters  to  speak  of  the  influence  of 
the  older  boys  upon  their  younger  compan- 
ions. He  tried  at  The  Hill  to  make  use  of 
this  to  the  utmost,  by  his  personal  touch  upon 
the  older  boys.  In  this  respect  more  than 
in  almost  any  other  it  is  impossible  to  dis- 
entangle his  own  work  from  what  Mrs. 
Meigs  did  at  his  side.  Between  them  they 
would  bring  to  bear  upon  the  stronger  boys 
the  power  of  a  very  great  and  challenging 
expectation,  and  they  made  these  boys  feel 
that  in  their  hands  rested  not  infrequently 
the  real  shaping  of  the  spirit  of  the  school. 
There  was  a  Christian  Association,  open  to 
all  the  boys,  which  held  its  services  every 
Wednesday  evening  in  the  three-quarters  of 
an  hour  between  supper  and  study-hour,  the 


172      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

commencement  of  which  was  postponed 
thirty  minutes;  and  though  different  masters 
were  often  invited  to  lead  these,  the  conduct  of 
them  was  more  often  in  the  hands  of  the  boys 
themselves.  Here  was  a  chance  for  the  in- 
fluential boys  to  keep  lifting  up  before  the 
others  their  own  fine  insistence  on  manliness 
and  honor  and  the  sort  of  religious  loyalty 
which  was  linked  directly  up  to  the  duties  of 
every  day ;  and  John  Meigs  was  always  swift 
to  reinforce  this  opportunity  by  his  advice 
and  counsel  to  the  boys  concerned.  But  in 
the  main,  of  course,  the  sort  of  leadership  to 
which  he  inspired  the  picked  boys  could  not 
be  traced  in  definite  times  and  places.  It 
concerned  rather  the  spirit  and  ideals  of  work 
and  conduct  which  they  themselves  were  led 
to  believe  in,  and  which  through  them  would 
pervade  the  public  sentiment  of  the  school. 

His  own  genuineness,  and  his  keen  sense 
of  the  ridiculous,  kept  him  from  ever  falling 
into  the  danger  of  encouraging  the  kind  of 
exclamatory  pretense  which  sometimes  passes 
for  religion.  He  himself  was  never  profane 
in  so  much  as  a  syllable,  but  there  is  a  story 
of  how  he  listened  once,  with  peals  of  laugh- 
ter, to  one  of  the  best-loved  masters,  who  was 
a  great  wag,  describing,  to  the  confusion  of 
a  second  master,  the  indignation  of  this 
second  one  over  a  boy  named  James  whom 


IDEALS  FOR  THE  SCHOOL         173 

he    had    vehemently    pronounced    to    be    a 

"d d    pious    hag."      The    religion    which 

John  Meigs  led  the  boys  to  understand  and 
seek  after  was  no  artificial  piousness;  but  it 
was  a  deep  and  manly  and  straightforward 
choice  of  Christ  as  pattern  and  Master  and 
Lord.  Under  the  title,  "Religious  Work  in 
Secondary  Schools,"  he  once  made  his  ideals 
plain : 

"  As  with  the  aspiring  athlete  and  the  eager 
learner,  so  must  it  be  with  the  young  Chris- 
tian. He  must  be  taught  to  study  the  great 
Book  of  rules  for  daily  living;  to  seek  his 
great  Captain  in  difficulty,  and  ask  for  guid- 
ance in  prayer;  to  heed  the  coach  who  has 
gained  wisdom  and  victory  in  his  longer  game 
of  life;  and  to  share  counsels,  joys  and  confi- 
dences in  brotherly  meetings  for  prayer.  He 
must  realize  that  the  test  of  his  religious  life 
is  what  he  is,  and  what  he  does,  when  he  is 
not  on  his  knees  in  prayer,  not  reading  his 
Bible,  not  listening  to  great  preachers,  and 
not  participating  in  religious  meetings. 

"  The  fellows  who  are  Christian  leaders 
should  be  as  carefully  trained  as  football  and 
baseball  captains,  and  great  stress  should  be 
laid  on  these  pivotal  members  of  the  spiritual 
forces  of  the  school.  Just  here  lies  the  great 
peril  of  all  organized  religious  training  in 
schools.  It  is  so  easy  for  these  things  to  be- 
come merely  traditional  or  perfunctory,  or, 
worse  still,  a  pitiable  sop  to  the  Cerberus  of 


174      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

school  authorities,  who  are  often  presumed 
by  boys  to  be  incapable  of  differentiating  the 
real  from  the  unreal,  and  to  enjoy  existence 
in  a  fool's  paradise." 

It  was  not  unusual  for  John  Meigs  to  pick 
out  for  responsibility  boys  whose  record  on 
the  surface  seemed  unpromising.  He  had  a 
keen  eye  to  judge  the  real  possibilities  of 
loyal  strength  that  might  lie  hidden  under 
the  turbulent  and  undisciplined  exterior. 

A  memorandum  among  his  papers  contains 
these  words: 


"The  largest,  strongest  characters  among 
boys  who  make  the  most  trouble  most  need 
to  find  their  place.  They  most  truly  have  a 
place  to  find.  The  commonplace  boy  fits  in 
anywhere  and  makes  no  trouble;  but  in  that 
graceless,  awkward,  interfering  character  is 
a  real  pivot — if  you  can  help  it  into  its  right 
place — to  help  hold  the  world  together  and 
let  others  revolve  on  it." 

Here  is  an  incident  which  reflects  his  deal- 
ing with  the  sort  of  boy  just  spoken  of,  told 
in  the  words  of  the  lad  concerned : 

"  The  afternoon  of  the  track  meet  with  Law- 
renceville  on  their  grounds  in  the  spring  of 
1905,  Professor,  on  learning  that  we  had  won 
by  a  very  close  score  after  a  most  exciting 


IDEALS  FOR  THE  SCHOOL         175 

meet,  called  another  boy  and  myself  to  the 
study.  We  did  not  go  to  the  meet  with  the 
rest  of  the  Sixth  Formers,  because  of  divers 
*  D '  lists,  and  perhaps  other  causes,  too, 
which  is  not  unlikely,  although  I  have  for- 
gotten. Professor's  interview  with  us  was 
short ;  he  briefly  told  us  that  we  were  to  have 
charge  of  the  whole  school  that  evening  in 
all  things  pertaining  to  the  welcoming  of  the 
team  home  and  the  celebration;  that  the  boys 
should  not  go  off  bounds;  that  we  could  have 
certain  fireworks  and  a  bonfire,  but  that  we 
personally  would  be  responsible  for  any 
breach  of  discipline  by  anyone,  and  that  he 
would  announce  to  the  school  that  we  two 
were  in  charge  of  them.  This  was  all  the 
more  surprising  to  me  because  Professor 
raked  me  over  the  coals  severely  only  a  day 
or  so  before  for  my  poor  stand  in  studies 
and  for  bad  conduct.  I  won't  go  into  detail 
as  to  how  it  all  went  off.  It  suffices  to  say 
that  the  fellows  behaved  themselves  better 
than  anyone  expected.  Within  a  day  or  so 
Professor  called  me  to  the  study,  as  I 
believe  he  had  already  done  with  the  other 
boy,  complimented  me  on  the  manner  with 
which  everything  went  off,  and  finished  by 
saying:  'You  mustn't  think  I  tried  to  put 
the  school  on  its  honor  not  to  have  a  repeti- 
tion of  that  wild  outbreak  we  had  on  the 
return  of  the  football  team  from  Hotchkiss 
last  fall.  It  was  not  that,  though  I  knew 
this  way  would  be  effectual,  but  I  just  wanted 
to  find  out,  Ted,  what  sort  of  stuff  you  and 
Neil  were  made  of.' " 


176      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

And  with  reference  to  the  responsibility 
which  he  felt  for  boys  who  seemed  unrespon- 
sive to  the  best  things,  he  wrote: 


"How  shall  this  influence  be  exerted? 
First  of  all,  it  must  be  realized  that  as  possi- 
ble physical  strength  and  skill  may  be  latent 
in  even  the  weakest  boy,  and  splendid  mental 
attainments  in  the  dullest  lad,  so  spiritual 
vitality  is  possible  to  the  worst  fellow.  He 
who  would  awaken  the  religious  life  of  a  boy 
must  first  believe  that  it  is  there  potentially; 
the  greater  his  faith,  the  greater  the  possi- 
bility of  awakening  that  of  the  boy.  He  must 
avail  himself  of  every  opportunity  to  become 
acquainted  with  the  individual  boy's  temper- 
amental characteristics.  This  costs.  It  takes 
far  more  than  time.  It  involves  the  highest 
'law  of  life — the  old  familiar  principle  that 
under  the  divine  economy  we  must  lose  to 
gain,  and  give  to  get;  and  as  no  two  boys 
possess  identical  characteristics,  so  can  no 
two  boys  be  reached  by  precisely  the  same 
method.  One  must  therefore  know  or  learn 
human  nature,  even  through  bitter  experience 
and  by  failure  no  less  than  by  success;  and 
there  will  be  many  a  one  to  the  door  of 
whose  heart  he  may  not  find  the  key.  It 
may  be  that  only  one  of  the  three  mighty 
ones,  Love,  Life  and  Death,  will  hold  the 
key  that  shall  release  the  slumbering  spirit 
years  hence;  yet  it  is  our  business  to  knock 
at  the  door,  try  every  key  that  we  possess, 
and,  failing,  go  on  undiscouraged  to  minister 


IDEALS  FOR  THE  SCHOOL         177 

to  others  for  whom  we  may  unlock  the  mys- 
teries of  the  kingdom  of  God." 

And  again: 

"  Up  to  twenty  no  one  can  truly  say  that 
a  boy  is  absolutely  bad,  or  thoroughly  good. 
His  vices  and  virtues  seem  to  lose  definition 
as  in  a  moral  twilight.  The  average  bad  boy, 
so  called,  with  wayward  tendencies  and  love 
of  mental  ease  and  physical  activity,  may  have 
incipient  vices  contrasted  with  his  many  lov- 
ing impulses  and  generous  deeds,  while  the 
good  boy,  so  called,  of  clean  and  moral  life 
is  too  often  selfish,  unsympathetic,  conceited 
and  censorious.  Someone  has  said: 

" '  In  men  whom  men  pronounce  as  ill 
I  find  so  much  of  goodness  still; 
In  men  whom  men  pronounce  divine 

I  find  so  much  of  sin  and  blot ; 
I  hesitate  to  draw  the  line 

Between  the  two  when  God  has  not.' 

And,  yet,  when  all  has  been  said  and  done, 
despite  the  best  surroundings  for  a  boy's 
home  life,  and  the  most  approved  methods 
to  stimulate  religious  consciousness  and  serv- 
ice, the  force  that  awakens  the  spiritual  life 
of  a  boy  and  inspires  him  with  ideals  is  above 
all  method  and  defies  all  analysis.  Though  a 
man  have  faith  in  the  religious  nature  of  a 
boy;  though  he  have  hope  of  the  potential 
goodness  within  him,  if  he  have  not  love  it 
profiteth  him  nothing.  The  coach  who  wins 
loyalty,  devotion,  and  co-operation  is  he  who 


178      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

spends  himself  for  his  boys;  the  teacher  who 
inspires  the  love  of  knowledge  and  fidelity  in 
the  quest  of  it  is  he  who  with  all  his  giving 
to  his  pupils  gives  a  deep  personal  interest  in 
their  lives  and  characters;  and  he  who  would 
guide  the  spirit  of  a  youth  through  the  period 
when  '  childish  things '  are  being  put  away 
and  manhood's  armor  put  on  must  meet  the 
individual  boy  with  a  heart  kindled  by  a 
spark  of  God's  love  for  His  weakest  child, 
must  sit  at  the  feet  of  the  Great  Teacher 
who  spake  as  never  man  spake,  must  have  the 
eyes  of  his  understanding  enlightened  by  the 
Spirit  of  All  Truth,  and  above  all  possess 
that  love  which  hopeth,  believeth  and  en- 
dureth  all  things.  The  first  Christians  saw 
God  in  His  diyinest  relation  through  the 
human  friendship  of  Christ;  and  He  who 
would  lead  His  other  sons  along  the  same 
path  as  our  Great  Master  must  strive  to  give 
the  same  human  friendship  to  him  in  whom 
he  would  awaken  and  deepen  the  conscious- 
ness of  his  birthright  and  his  sonship  in  the 
Kingdom  of  God." 

The  boys  responded  to  his  trust  because, 
instinctively,  they  felt  that  underneath  his 
authority  and  his  discipline — which  could  be 
swift  and  severe — there  was  the  heart  of  the 
man  who  understood  the  boys'  enthusiasms 
and  the  boys'  resentments,  too.  In  their  mo- 
ments of  truest  realization  they  knew  what 
he  was,  and  what  he  was  trying  to  do  for 
them.  "To  me,"  wrote  one,  "he  was  never 


IDEALS  FOR  THE  SCHOOL         179 

an  aloof  personality,  never  just  a  headmas- 
ter or  a  very  good  man;  he  was  just  human; 
got  mad  quickly,  forgave  twice  as  quickly, 
knew  and  recognized  the  boy's  code  of  jus- 
tice, and,  what  was  more,  lived  up  to  it;  for 
when  he  was  wrong  he  admitted  it  so  fairly 
and  impetuously  that  the  boy  who  thought 
that  he  had  been  wronged,  when  he  went  into 
the  study,  left  there  a  staunch  ally  of  Pro- 
fessor, the  school  and  the  whole  institution 
of  justice." 

Sometimes  the  fact  that  he  was  "just  hu- 
man "  led  to  funny  consequences.  Once  in 
the  Wednesday  night  service  of  the  Christian 
Association  of  the  school,  one  of  the  boys 
was  telling  the  other  boys  that  they  ought  to 
make  it  a  point  to  know  the  Professor.  He 
was  very  emphatic  about  it,  and  told  them 
that  they  ought  to  go  to  his  study  now  and 
then  just  to  see  him  and  talk  about  things  in 
general.  One  boy,  at  least,  thought  this  was  a 
good  idea ;  so  a  day  or  two  after  that  he  went 
to  the  headmaster's  door  and  rang  the  bell. 
The  little  electric  latch  clicked,  and  the  door 
opened.  The  boy  walked  in.  The  Professor 
was  sitting  bent  over  his  desk  at  the  far  end 
of  the  big  room,  deep  in  some  pressing  work. 
As  the  boy  paused  he  looked  up  suddenly, 
and  shot  out — "What  do  you  want?"  The 
boy  stood  speechless,  and  as  soon  as  he  re- 


i8o      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

covered  his  wits,  he  decided  he  did  not  want 
anything,  and  beat  an  immediate  and  silent 
retreat. 

But  the  "  humanness  "  of  him  showed  itself 
more  characteristically  in  the  swift  intuition 
which  understood  the  boys  and  mingled  au- 
thority with  playful  tact.  One  day  a  boy 
came  into  the  study  to  ask  permission  to  go 
away  for  a  visit  to  near-by  relatives  over 
Sunday.  The  headmaster  seized  him  with 
mock  roughness,  ran  his  hand  through 
the  boy's  shaggy  hair,  pulled  a  quarter  from 
his  pocket,  and  announced,  "  No  boy  of  mine 
can  go  away  from  this  school  with  such  a 
looking  head  of  hair  as  that.  Take  this  to 
the  barber  with  my  compliments,  and  then 
come  back  and  we'll  see  what  we  can  do." 
The  boy  returned  presently,  bringing  back 
the  quarter,  to  get  his  permission  to  go  away 
— shorn,  and  in  a  general  aspect  of  grins  and 
neatness  which  passed  inspection  trium- 
phantly. 

He  knew  how,  also,  to  lay  aside  the  rela- 
tionship of  headmaster  and  share  fun  with 
others  on  their  own  terms.  Here  is  an  inci- 
dent which  Mr.  Rolfe,  one  of  the  masters,  re- 
calls: 


"  Professor  was  as  jolly  and  care-free  as  a 
boy  when  he  was  away  from  the  school  and 


IDEALS  FOR  THE  SCHOOL         181 

its  responsibilities.  I  went  with  him  and 
three  or  four  boys  once  to  visit  a  famous 
authority  on  Indian  relics,  who  lived  near 
Trenton.  The  day  was  one  long  lark,  and 
finally  we  persuaded  Professor  to  share  our 
chewing-gum.  He  chewed  vigorously  for  a 
while,  but  as  we  approached  the  house  of  our 
distinguished  host,  he  thought  it  wise  to  re- 
move the  gum  and  throw  it  away.  It  stuck 
to  his  ringers  and  finally,  to  our  great  delight, 
he  sat  down  to  dinner  with  hands  well  be- 
smeared with  the  sticky  stuff.  He  seemed  to 
enjoy  the  joke  as  well  as  anyone,  and  we 
were  all  delighted  to  see  that  Professor  could 
lay  aside  his  dignity  and  be  a  boy  with  boys.'* 

So,  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  he  was  often 
under  tremendous  pressure  in  the  work  of 
the  school  and  sometimes  seemed  swift  and 
summary  in  his  decisions,  the  boys  knew  that 
his  spirit  kept  its  kinship  with  their  own. 
They  knew  it  best  of  all  in  the  times  when 
they  thought  they  had  reason  to  fear  him. 
Once,  at  one  of  the  reunions  of  the  Alumni — 
which  came  every  year  in  May — one  of  the 
men  who  had  blundered  badly  was  thanking 
the  Professor  for  his  kindness  and  considera- 
tion for  him ;  and  he  replied — "  Dick,  we  are 
all  of  us  so  very  human." 

"  O  Howard ! "  he  wrote  to  one  of  them,  as 
he  recounted  the  way  in  which  at  the  end  of 
the  school  year  certain  boys  had  revealed  in 
themselves  so  much  more  that  was  fine  than 


1 82      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

he  had  given  the  credit  for  being  there,  "  what 
lessons  of  forbearance  and  charity  and  love 
we  all  need  to  gather!" 

His  own  great  eagerness  to  find  in  a  boy 
all  that  was  best,  to  recognize  it  and  to  bring 
it  in  spite  of  all  difficulties  to  expression, 
showed  itself  most  impressively  in  his  attitude 
toward  the  boys  whom  he  had  to  expel.  When 
a  boy's  influence  seemed  to  him  hurtful  to 
the  school,  he  could  be  relentless  against  all 
pleading  of  parents  that  he  should  remain; 
yet  none  the  less  his  own  affection  suffered 
keenly,  and  he  left  nothing  undone  to  show 
that  though  the  boy  had  failed  at  The  Hill, 
he  would  do  all  that  he  could  to  help  him  else- 
where not  to  be  a  failure. 

"You  will  believe,"  he  writes  to  a  mother 
whose  son  has  broken  a  rule  for  which  the 
penalty  was  expulsion,  "  that  nothing  but  the 
most  urgent  duty  to  the  school  could  con- 
strain me  to  take  a  step  which  my  heart  so 
shrinks  from  for  your  sake  and  ours;  and  if 
in  any  way,  now,  or  hereafter,  I  can  be  of 
service  to  you,  by  counsel  or  suggestion,  I 
pray  that  you  will  give  me  this  poor  boon  that 
may  mitigate  perhaps  my  sorrow  in  view  of 
my  helplessness  now  to  serve  you  as  my  affec- 
tion would  prompt. 

"  I  need  not  assure  you  that  as  N.  ... 
goes  from  us  he  will  be  attended  by  our  af- 


IDEALS  FOR  THE  SCHOOL         183 

fectionate  prayers  for  his  strengthening  and 
quickening  in  the  supreme  matter  of  unselfish- 
ness, which  more  and  more  appears  to  me  to 
be  the  foundation  and  culmination  of  that 
which  is  to  be  desired  in  this  life." 

To  the  guardian  of  another  boy  he  wrote  of 
his  feeling  that  the  boy  "  with  his  past  record 
might  be  a  more  acceptable  member  of  a  day 
school  than  of  a  family  school,  his  present  life 
in  either,  so  far  as  overt  acts  are  concerned, 
being  free  from  the  grave  faults  of  the  past. 
I  feel  less  and  less,  year  by  year,  like  prophe- 
sying as  to  the  future  of  any  boy,  no  matter 
how  flagrant  may  be  his  boyish  delinquencies, 
and  I  stand  ready  to  co-operate  with  any  boy 
who  sincerely  desires  a  new  life  and  who, 
from  the  circumstances  of  the  case,  can  better 
pursue  that  life  elsewhere  than  here." 

To  the  head  of  another  school  he  wrote, 
concerning  a  boy  whom  he  had  sent  away 
from  The  Hill: 

"  My  letter  of  this  morning  was  somewhat 
abbreviated  owing  to  my  desire  to  reach  an 
early  mail,  and  I  feel  that  I  am  hardly  doing 
justice  to  you  or  to  myself  to  allow  my  brief 
communication  of  this  morning  to  stand  for 
my  final  word  in  such  questions  as  may  be  in- 
volved in  the  dismissal  of  a  boy  by  one  school 
and  the  recommendation  to  a  friend  to  give 
him  a  new  life,  especially  under  such  circum- 


1 84      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

"  I  believe  that  we  schoolmasters  must  be 
men  not  only  of  a  '  larger  hope/  but  of  the 
largest  possible  hope;  that  were  it  not  for  this 
our  responsibilities  would  crush  the  joy  out 
of  our  lives.  And  as  my  years  increase  and, 
perhaps,  my  infirmities  of  mind  as  well,  I  seem 
to  be  conscious  of  a  deeper  sorrow,  approach- 
ing agony  at  times,  when,  to  prevent  confu- 
sion of  moral  distinctions  in  the  minds  of  my 
other  boys,  I  am  compelled  to  adopt  the  he- 
roic course  of  dismissal  in  the  case  of  any  lad. 

"  I  cannot  help  reaching  out  a  hand  to  him, 
despite  his  well-merited  discipline,  and  yearn- 
ing over  him  as  he  leaves  The  Hill  as  if  it 
were  his  birthright  to  be  here,  so  far  as  any 
act  of  mine  is  concerned.  I  want  to  give  each 
boy  in  such  a  case  a  fresh  start.  I  believe 
that  most  boys  experience  so  violent  a  shock 
in  undergoing  this  discipline  that,  if  their  fault 
is  frankly  acknowledged  and  earnestly  re- 
pented, they  are  likely  to  learn  a  lifelong  les- 
son from  the  ordeal. 

"...  has  confessed  and  declared  both  his, 
desire  and  purpose  to  lead  a  blameless  life,' 
if  only  he  can  have  a  new  chance.  His  father 
is  a  man  for  whom  I  have  the  highest  regard, 
and  will  reinforce  to  the  uttermost  anything 
that  can  be  done  to  uphold  and  strengthen  his 
boy.  If  you  can  take  him  into  your  school, 
knowing  as  you  do  the  truth  in  the  case,  I 
know  that  you  will  merit  the  grateful  appro- 
bation of  those  most  deeply  involved  and  of, 
"  Yours  most  faithfully, 

"John  Meigs." 


IDEALS  FOR  THE  SCHOOL        185 

His  faithful  sense  of  a  bond  with  every  boy 
who  had  ever  been  at  The  Hill  continued  to- 
ward these  boys  whom  he  had  sent  away. 
Though  they  might  not  remain  as  boys  in  the 
life  of  the  school,  he  wanted  them  to  feel  that 
his  sympathy  followed  them,  and  that  in  after 
years  there  was  always  a  welcome  for  them 
if  they  came  back  to  The  Hill.  When  he  was 
ill  and  away  from  the  school  in  1907,  he  wrote 
back  to  one  of  the  masters  who  was  working 
to  compile  a  list  of  all  The  Hill  boys  of 
former  years: 


"  This  is  a  great  work — the  reclaiming  of 
missing,  perhaps  lost,  sons  whom  we  shall 
welcome  in  scriptural  terms — nor  do  I  believe 
that  the  grouchy  elder  brother  of  the  parable 
will  be  found  to  chill  the  prodigal's  or  the 
father's  heart/' 


Not  only  in  relation  to  the  crisis  of  boys' 
transgressions,  but  in  happier  and  also  in 
more  playful  circumstances  he  would  often 
show  his  affection  for  the  boys  who  came  to 
The  Hill,  and  his  quick  understanding  of  those 
things  which  in  themselves  are  little,  but 
which  to  a  boy  can  mean  so  unforgetably 
much.  Here  is  one  incident  which  the  boy 
who  was  concerned  in  it  told, — and  there  were 
others  like  it. 


1 86      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

"  Professor  did  a  thing  for  me  once,  so 
thoughtful  and  so  generous  that  the  mere  tell- 
ing of  it  cannot  fail  to  appeal  to  the  genera- 
tions of  boys  as  they  come  on.  In  the  fall 
of  either  '97  or  '98,  I  was  on  the  football  team, 
was  in  poor  scholastic  standing,  and  was  al- 
together, I  fear,  rather  a  trial.  Our  season 
was  almost  ended,  and  one  of  the  great  games 
was  to  be  played  in  Philadelphia ;  it  was  either 
Harvard  vs.  Penn,  or  Penn  vs.  Indians,  I  can- 
not remember  which,  and  was  to  be  played 
on  a  Saturday.  Friday,  Professor  announced 
that  the  team  could  go  to  the  game,  and  then 
half  jokingly  added — '  Will  any  member  of 
the  team  who  is  not  going  please  hold  up  his 
hand?'  It  so  happened  that  I  had  no  money 
at  all,  and  not  caring  to  borrow,  held  up  my 
hand  to  show  that  I  could  not  go.  I,  of 
course,  was  disappointed,  particularly  so  as 
all  the  rest  were  so  excited  about  the  pros- 
pect of  seeing  the  game,  but  was  reconciled 
to  my  fate  until  late  that  night  or  early  the 
next  morning — I  forget  which — when  Pro- 
fessor's boy  came  over  to  my  room  and  said 
that  Professor  wished  me  to  go  to  the  game 
as  his  guest.  Of  course,  I  went;  and  the  next 
morning  in  the  train  Professor  called  me  to 
him,  laughingly  showed  me  that  he  under- 
stood my  predicament,  gave  me  five  dollars  for 
incidental  expenses,  and  insisted  that  I  be  his 
guest  for  the  party.  It  all  struck  me  as  being 
so  thoughtful,  and  showing  so  much  insight 
into  my  little  part  in  the  school  life,  that  I 
would  have  jumped  off  the  water  tower  for 
him  at  a  moment's  notice." 


IDEALS  FOR  THE  SCHOOL         187 

Here  and  there  also,  from  among  the  copies 
<bf  his  letters  and  the  recollections  of  the  boys, 
can  be  gleaned  the  evidences  of  the  generosity 
with  which  he  met  the  difficulties  of  those 
who  wanted  to  be  at  The  Hill  and,  because 
of  lack  of  money,  thought  they  could  not. 

In  the  carbon  files  of  his  correspondence  for 
1892,  there  is  this  letter  to  a  father  who  had 
written  to  say  that  financial  reverses  would 
make  it  impossible  for  him  to  send  his  son 
back: 

"  I  trust  you  will  not  misunderstand  me 
when  I  say  that  it  will  afford  me  great  pleas- 
ure to  expedite  the  matter  in  any  way  within 
my  power.  ...  I  should  esteem  it  a  pleas- 
ure and  a  privilege  to  so  abate  the  regular 
terms  as  to  make  it  possible  for  C.  ...  to 
return. 

"  I  need  not  say  that  no  one,  not  even  Mrs. 
Meigs,  need  know  of  this  proffer,  and  my 
heart  goes  with  the  invitation  that  I  shall 
feel  robbed  of  a  personal  privilege  if  you  deem 
it  inexpedient  to  accept  my  suggestion  in  the 
spirit  of  cordiality  and  fraternal  feeling  in 
which  it  is  offered. 

"  C.  .  .  .  has  so  won  our  confidence  and 
respect,  and  has  so  honestly  and  so  loyally  util- 
ized the  advantages  of  the  school  that  I  should 
welcome  him  under  the  conditions  that  I  have 
indicated,  to  our  household  and  school  for 
another  year. 

"  Permit  me  to  say  that  it  has  been  my 


1 88      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

happiness  to  do  this  very  thing  in  the  case 
of  other  boys  on  less  assuring  personal 
grounds,  and  as  I  shall  feel  in  my  heart  of 
hearts  so  sincerely  that  you  have  done  me  a 
favor  in  meeting  me  half-way  in  the  matter, 
there  can  never  come  up  a  question  or  sug- 
gestion of  an  obligation  save  that  which  a 
fraternal  spirit  is  glad  to  recognize. 

"  Do  let  me  hear  from  you  at  your  con- 
venience, and  be  assured  of  my  earnest  hope 
that  we  may  number  C.  .  .  .  among  our 
boys  in  a  larger  and  deeper  sense  next  year 
than  ever  before." 

In  one  of  his  letters  to  his  wife  he  wrote : 

"  I  think  seriously  of  taking  D.  .  .  .  for- 
cibly and  putting  him  on  his  feet  in  respect 
of  a  college  preparation  at  least.  I  have 
learned  of  his  kindly,  self-helpful  and  hard- 
working methods  by  which  he  is  slowly  ad- 
vancing, and  I  hope  to  do  more  with  the 
gritty  little  chap." 

From  one  of  the  boys  conies  this  further 
record : 

"  My  most  vivid  recollection  of  him  was  the 
time  my  mother  came  to  take  me  away  to 
another  school.  Professor,  before  he  had 
even  seen  me,  offered  to  prepare  me  for  col- 
lege for  less  than  the  regular  rate.  He  knew 
my  family  had  very  little  money.  About  a 
month  after  my  arrival  at  school  a  friend  se- 
cured a  free  scholarship  for  me  at  Lawrence- 


IDEALS  FOR  THE  SCHOOL        189 

ville.  When  my  mother  came  for  me,  we 
went  to  the  study  to  say  good-by  to  Pro- 
fessor and  thank  him  for  having  taken  me 
as  he  had.  In  that  short  time  I  had  grown 
to  love  the  school  and  those  connected  with 
it.  I  broke  down  as  I  was  saying  good-by. 
This  so  touched  Professor  that  he  offered  me 
a  free  scholarship  at  The  Hill.  I  spent  the 
three  happiest  years  of  my  life  at  school,  and 
never  did  he  make  me  feel  that  I  was  on  a 
different  footing  from  that  of  any  of  the  other 
boys." 

At  this  point  it  is  fitting  to  tell  the  singular 
and  romantic  story  of  one  especial  lad  whom 
John  Meigs  befriended.  The  story  has  its 
beginning  in  Japan. 

In  a  Samurai  family  of  noble  rank  and  an- 
cient inheritance  the  boy  with  whom  the 
story  has  to  do  was  born.  He  was  trained 
in  all  the  traditions  of  Japanese  culture  and 
in  the  religion  of  his  forefathers.  Once,  when 
his  little  sister  was  sick,  his  grandmother 
bade  him  go  and  pray  to  the  god  of  the  shrine 
under  the  fir  tree.  So  up  the  hill  he  went 
to  pray  to  the  god  of  the  fir  tree.  And  since 
his  sister  recovered  this  god  served  to  satisfy 
his  boyish  religious  ideals. 

Later,  as  he  grew  up,  he  went  as  a  student 
to  the  Imperial  University  at  Tokio.  By  this 
time  he  had  begun  to  ask  questions  which 
none  of  the  religious  teachers  whom  he  found 


1 90      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

could  answer.  He  was  particularly  concerned 
about  the  question  of  life  after  death.  He 
could  not  bring  himself  to  think  that  after 
the  life  here  on  this  earth,  the  soul  perished 
with  the  body.  But  from  the  ancient  reli- 
gions of  Japan  he  could  get  no  clear  accounts. 
Neither  could  he  find  any  satisfaction  from 
the  Buddhist  priests.  They  talked  of  an  ab- 
sorption into  the  universal  spirit.  But  he  did 
not  want  to  be  absorbed.  Without  knowing 
exactly  what  he  sought,  he  knew  that  his 
spirit,  with  a  kind  of  imperial  insistence,  was 
seeking  after  a  more  personal  and  uplifting 
message. 

One  day  he  was  passing  by  She  entrance 
to  the  park  in  Tokio.  There  a  missionary 
was  standing,  selling  books.  Kentaro — which 
is  the  name  we  shall  call  him  by,  since  for 
certain  reasons  it  is  not  fitting  that  we  should 
use  his  own — was  arrested  by  what  the  man 
was  saying, — "  Everlasting  life !  Everlasting 
life !  If  you  drink  this  you  will  live  forever !  " 
Kentaro  stopped  and  bought  one  of  the  books 
he  was  selling.  He  went  home  with  it;  and 
when  he  had  gone  into  his  own  room,  he  sat 
down  to  investigate  what  the  thing  was  that 
he  had  bought.  To  his  indignation  he  found 
that  it  was  a  New  Testament — the  book  of 
the  "foreign  devils" — propaganda  of  the  re- 
ligion he  had  been  trained  to  despise.  He 


IDEALS  FOR  THE  SCHOOL         191 

took  it  back  furiously  to  the  old  man  at  the 
gate  of  the  park.  With  hot  abuse  he  de- 
manded that  he  give  him  back  his  money. 
The  old  man  started  to  comply, — but  he 
asked  him, — "Have  you  read  it?"  Kentaro 
said  contemptuously  that  he  had  not.  Then 
the  man  replied,  "  I  see  by  your  cap  that  you 
are  a  university  student.  I  presume  that  you 
have  studied  logic.  You  have  been  taught 
that  it  is  not  logic  to  condemn  something 
which  you  have  not  proved  by  reading.  Will 
you  not  take  this  book  and  read  it?  That  is 
all  I  ask  of  you.  If,  after  you  have  read  it, 
you  want  your  money  back,  I  will  give  it  to 
you  cheerfully."  Kentaro  was  struck  by  that 
appeal.  That  was  fair,  he  recognized.  So 
he  took  the  book  home  again  in  order  that 
he  might  read  it. 

Once  again  he  went  into  his  room  alone. 
He  opened  the  book  and  turned  the  pages 
carelessly.  This  was  what  his  eyes  fell  upon: 
"  God  so  loved  the  world  that  He  gave  His 
only  begotten  Son  that  whosoever  believeth  in 
Him  should  not  perish,  but  have  everlasting 
life."  The  words  went  through  him  like  an 
electric  shock.  Here  was  something  that 
claimed  to  be  an  answer  to  his  seeking. 

Time  went  by.  Kentaro  read  the  book 
more  and  more.  He  became  a  Christian. 
One  day  he  went  back  to  the  old  man  at  the 


192       THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

entrance  of  the  park  and  told  him  so.  The 
old  man  burst  out  weeping.  "  Ten  years," 
he  said,  "  I  have  been  selling  New  Testaments 
here  at  the  park  gates,  and  you  are  the  first 
who  has  ever  come  to  tell  me  you  were 
helped." 

But  when  his  father  found  that  his  son  had 
accepted  the  foreign  religion,  all  the  scornful 
pride  of  his  ancient  traditions  and  his  ancient 
prejudices  rose  hot  within  him.  When  the 
boy  came  next  into  his  room  he  found  on  his 
table  the  naked  hara-kiri  sword.  He  did  not 
need  to  be  told  what  it  meant.  As  one  of 
the  Samurai  he  knew.  He  was  regarded  to 
have  besmirched  the  honor  of  the  family,  and 
he  should  kill  himself  by  his  own  hand.  He 
took  up  the  sword  and  prepared  very  coolly 
to  carry  out  his  father's  purpose. 

When  he  was  ready  he  knelt  down  first  to 
pray.  Then  of  a  sudden  it  seemed  as  though 
a  message  came  to  him,  clear  and  vivid  as  a 
living  voice.  "  Your  earthly  father  has  cast 
you  off.  Commit  yourself  to  your  heavenly 
Father."  He  rose  from  his  knees.  He  put 
the  sword  back  into  its  sheath. 

Not  long  afterward  he  left  home  an  exile. 
He  came  to  America  seeking  a  Christian  land 
and  Christian  guidance.  All  his  life  he  had 
been  accustomed  to  luxuries.  He  was  penni- 
less now,  an  alien  in  a  new  land,  faced  with 


IDEALS  FOR  THE  SCHOOL         193 

dismaying  hardships.  He  made  his  way  to 
Washington,  seeking  help  and  advice  from 
the  Japanese  embassy.  He  was  told  that  his 
father  had  forewarned  the  embassy  that  no 
help  should  be  given  him. 

From  Washington  he  reached  New  York 
with  five  cents  in  his  pocket.  He  spent  it 
to  take  a  street  car  to  Central  Park.  There 
he  sat  down  on  a  bench, — homeless,  friend- 
less, and  knowing  hardly  a  word  of  the  lan- 
guage of  those  who  went  by  him  in  the  great, 
strange  city.  He  meant  to  spend  the  night 
on  the  bench,  but  a  policeman  arrested  him 
and  took  him  to  the  lock-up.  He  had  in 
his  pocket  a  little  English  dictionary,  and  he 
opened  it  and  pointed  to  the  word  "  inno- 
cent." The  officer  was  impressed,  and  sent 
him  to  the  Bible  House,  where  he  was  be- 
friended and  put  in  the  way  of  employment. 

He  made  his  way  then,  as  best  he  could. 
For  a  while  he  sailed  on  a  coast-wise  ship 
along  New  England;  once  was  wrecked  and 
almost  drowned.  He  worked  on  farms,  and 
as  a  servant.  Finally,  when  he  was  a  serv- 
ant in  the  house  of  a  family  in  the  city  of 
New  York,  the  family  became  interested  in 
him.  They  learned  the  story  of  his  birth  and 
breeding  and  of  the  adventure  that  had 
brought  him  to  America.  They  made  him  not 
a  servant,  but  a  brother  and  friend. 


i94      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

A  son  of  the  family  was  secretary  to  the 
China  Inland  Mission,  in  Toronto,  and  there 
Kentaro  went.  Another  official  of  the  mis- 
sion in  a  nearby  city  took  the  lad  into  his 
home  in  order  that  he  might  attend  the  local 
high  school,  but  later  when  this  friend  suf- 
fered financial  reverses,  it  was  necessary  that 
Kentaro  should  find  some  definite  way  of 
livelihood.  One  of  the  sons  of  the  family 
had  been  to  The  Hill,  and  he  wrote  to  Dr. 
Meigs  asking  him  if  he  would  put  Kentaro  on 
the  list  of  the  lecturers  whom  he  used  to  have 
come  from  time  to  time  to  speak  to  the  boys. 
Kentaro  went  to  The  Hill  to  speak  about 
Japan.  When  he  got  there  John  Meigs 
claimed  him  and  kept  him.  He  was  to  stay 
at  The  Hill  School  henceforth — and  did  stay 
— to  the  end  of  his  short  life. 

Kentaro  was  very  popular  with  the  boys,  but 
his  great  work  was  done  outside  the  school. 
Out  in  the  quarter  of  Pottstown  which  lay 
beyond  the  school,  he  developed  a  mission — 
he,  the  Christian  from  Japan,  bringing  Christ 
to  the  people  in  a  Christian  land.  He  had  an 
almost  marvelous  influence  over  the  people. 
He  loved  them  and  they  loved  him.  He  was 
intimate  with  all  their  homes,  and  all  their 
problems,  and  all  their  interests.  He  shep- 
herded them  one  by  one — old  and  young. 
A  chapel  was  built  and  he  was  superin- 


IDEALS  FOR  THE  SCHOOL         195 

tendent  of  the  Sunday  school  and  minister, 
too. 

So,  for  three  years,  his  life  and  work  went 
on.  He  lived  at  the  school,  but  he  worked 
mostly  at  the  mission.  In  the  summer  he 
generally  used  to  go  and  visit  some  of  the 
boys,  who  were  devoted  to  him  and  used  to 
invite  him  to  their  homes. 

At  the  beginning  of  the  third  summer  he 
had  not  been  well.  He  caught  a  deep  cold 
which  seemed  to  have  become  fastened  upon 
him.  It  went  into  swift  consumption;  but  no 
one  knew  it. 

Some  weeks  before  the  opening  of  the 
school  in  the  fall,  Dr.  Meigs  wrote  him  that 
the  family  were  going  back  to  The  Hill,  and 
that  they  would  expect  him  when  they  were 
back.  But  Kentaro,  with  a  sensitive  etiquette 
that  had  been  bred  into  the  nature  of  him, 
had  a  feeling  that  he  should  not  come  back 
to  The  Hill  until  at  least  twenty-four  hours 
after  the  family  had  arrived  and  been  settled. 
It  chanced  that  he  arrived  in  Philadelphia 
a  good  many  hours  before  that  period  which 
he  had  set  for  himself  had  elapsed.  He  stayed 
in  the  station  all  day  instead  of  taking  the 
first  train  for  Pottstown.  He  was  consumed 
then  with  fever. 

That  night,  as  Dr.  Meigs  was  sitting  at  the 
supper  table,  he  saw  Kentaro  pass  the  window. 


196      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

He  rushed  out  to  meet  him.  The  boy  stag- 
gered and  fell  into  his  arms. 

He  was  put  to  bed  at  once,  and  it  was  plain 
that  he  was  very  ill.  Before  many  days  the 
doctors  told  Mrs.  Meigs  that  his  death  was 
near.  She  determined  that  she  would  let  him 
know. 

So  one  day  she  went  into  his  room  and  she 
said,  "  I  have  some  wonderful  news  for  you." 

He  was  lying  back  weakly  on  the  pillows, 
but  the  black  eyes  flashed  in  surprised  antici- 
pation. 

"  You  are  going,"  she  said,  "  on  a  long  and 
wonderful  journey.  The  most  wonderful 
journey  in  all  the  world." 

"  I,"  he  said  wonderingly,  "I  on  a  jour- 
ney?" 

"Yes,"  she  said;  "you  are  going  to  where 
you  will  see  Jesus  Christ." 

He  lifted  himself  up  on  his  elbow,  "  You 
mean,"  he  said,  "  that  I  am  going  to  die?  " 

"  Yes,"  she  said,  "  that  is  one  way  men 
call  it." 

"Soon?"  he  questioned. 

"  It  may  be  very  soon,"  she  answered.  "  It 
may  be  even  to-night." 

He  lay  back  on  his  pillow  and  a  great  light 
filled  all  his  face.  "  To  think,"  he  said,  "  that 
I  may  see  Jesus  Christ;  that  I  may  see  my 
Master,  it  may  be  even  to-night! " 


IDEALS  FOR  THE  SCHOOL         197 

So,  not  very  long  afterward,  he  went  on 
his  wonderful  journey.  Up  in  the  sky  parlor 
of  The  Hill  School  is  the  hara-kiri  sword, 
with  it  seven-hundred-years-old  Damascus 
blade,  keen  and  shining.  On  the  hill  opposite 
the  school  stands  the  tower  of  the  chapel 
where  Christ  was  preached  and  where  He  is 
worshiped  to-day  through  the  influence  of 
the  exile  from  across  the  seas,  whom  the 
hearts  of  John  Meigs  and  his  wife  received 
and  sheltered. 

From  two  of  the  boys  of  The  Hill  come 
the  following: 

"When  I  think'  of  Professor,  instantly  I 
find  myself  thinking  of  almost  everything 
that  was  characteristic  of  The  Hill,  and  to 
try  to  describe  what  he  was  is  no  less  an  un- 
dertaking than  to  describe  the  whole  spirit 
and  genius  of  the  school.  And  not  any  one 
of  us,  and  hardly  all  of  us  together,  can  do 
that. 

"  I  remember  when  I  first  saw  him.  It 
was  the  night  in  September,  1897,  before 
school  opened.  I  came  by  myself  from  the 
depot  in  Pottstown  up  to  the  school,  lonely 
and  a  little  afraid  of  the  school  I  was  coming 
to,  because  it  seemed  so  far  from  home,  and 
because  everything  about  it  was  so  utterly 
unknown  and  strange.  The  carriage  I  came 
in  stopped  at  the  front  of  the  steps  leading 
up  to  the  front  door  of  the  school.  I  went 


198      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

up  them  and  rang  the  bell.  A  boy  opened 
the  door,  and  I  told  him  who  I  was,  and  then 
from  somewhere  the  Professor  came,  great, 
hearty,  loving,  with  his  hands  outstretched 
to  greet  the  shy  new-comer,  and  instantly 
his  welcome  made  the  whole  school  seem  a 
friendly  place." 

"  I  came  to  The  Hill  knowing  no  boys  nor 
any  teachers.  I  had  never  been  separated  from 
some  members  of  the  family  before  in  my 
life,  and  being  thus  left  apparently  the  only 
friendless  boy  in  the  school,  I  became  fright- 
fully homesick.  The  Professor  had  always 
been  held  up  to  me  as  one  to  be  respected 
and  admired,  but  never  to  be  approached. 
When  I  could  stand  it  no  longer,  I  scraped 
up  courage  and  rang  his  study  door-bell.  In- 
stead of  confronting  the  stern  disciplinarian 
I  expected,  I  received  a  heart  and  hand  as 
kind  as  ever  a  mother's  could  be.  When  I 
had  told,  with  tears  running  down  my  cheeks, 
how  I  should  die  if  I  remained  in  school  any 
longer,  Professor  Meigs  took  one  of  my  hands 
in  his  and  talked  to  me  as  I  never  hope  to 
be  talked  to  again.  He  sympathized  with  me, 
told  me  how  my  parents  wished  me  to  stay, 
and  ended  by  saying  that  he  always  liked  to 
have  the  boys  get  homesick,  for  it  showed  they 
came  from  good  homes  and  they  would  miss 
The  Hill  just  as  much  when  they  left  it.  I 
remember  I  promised  to  say  until  Christmas, 
but  in  less  than  a  week  I  had  gotten  all  over 
those  homesick  feelings.  I  never  regretted 
the  trouble  I  had,  though,  for  it  showed  me 


IDEALS  FOR  THE  SCHOOL         199 

the  soul  of  the  man  whom  I  never  got  over 
loving,  although  I  stood  in  great  awe  of  him 
at  times." 

Thus  to  many  a  boy  at  The  Hill  did  there 
come  the  widening  understanding  of  the 
many-sided  spirit  of  the  man  who  controlled 
its  life.  They  knew  that  he  could  be  stern 
with  the  authority  of  an  unflinching  purpose; 
they  learned  that  he  could  be  wondrously 
loving,  too.  The  time  arrived  when  in  veriest 
truth  their  hearts,  in  the  words  of  his  ideal, 
would  return  to  the  school  "as  to  the  real 
home  of  their  souls,  a  haven  of  imperishable 
sympathies  and  high  inspirations."  And  as 
they  have  thought  of  The  Hill,  they  have 
thought  of  it  as  permeated  with  the  per- 
sonality of  John  Meigs.  They  remember  his 
strong  voice  asking  the  blessing  at  each  meal 
when  the  whole  great  family  sat  down  to- 
gether, and  in  his  accents  the  familiar  words 
come  back,  "  Father  in  heaven,  graciously 
add  Thy  blessing  to  these  gifts  of  Thy  love, 
and  accept  of  us,  for  Christ's  sake.  Amen." 
They  remember  how  in  the  evenings  from 
the  study  door  he  would  come  striding  with 
that  heavy  form  of  his  down  the  "  second- 
hall  "  and  up  the  stairs  to  the  schoolroom, 
reaching  out  suddenly  to  lay  hold  of  some 
darting  figure  of  a  boy  and  carry  him  with 
him  in  his  arm.  They  remember  him  as  he 


200      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

was  at  prayers.  And  remembering  him,  it  is 
as  though  they  heard  again  the  warm  and 
living  voice  which  spoke  from  the  great  heart 
"  so  very  human,"  beating  at  the  center  of 
a  manhood  yearningly  akin  to  the  best  within 
themselves;  and  they  know  that  little  by 
little  they  learned  from  him,  as  "Tom 
Brown  "  learned  in  the  chapel  at  Rugby  from 
Thomas  Arnold,  "the  meaning  of  this  life: 
that  it  is  no  fool's  or  sluggard's  paradise  into 
which  one  has  wandered  by  chance,  but  a 
battlefield  ordained  from  of  old,  where  there 
are  no  spectators,  but  the  youngest  must  take 
his  side,  and  the  stakes  are  life  and  death." 


CHAPTER  VII 

THE  MAKING  OF  MEN 

The  Principles  Wrought  into  the  School — Insistence  on 
Obedience — Hatred  of  Insincerity  and  Sham — John  Meigs'  Pas- 
sion for  Purity — Physical  Training  as  an  Aid  to  Moral  Sound- 
ness— Public  Service  as  the  Duty  of  Privilege — Meigs'  Own 
Civic  Activities — Religious  Loyalty  as  the  Goal  of  His  Ideals  for 
the  Boys. 

IT  is  somewhat  difficult  to  indicate  a  quite 
clear  distinction  between  the  subject  of 
this  chapter  and  that  of  the  one  just 
closed.  Both  treat  of  the  ideals  of  John 
Meigs  for  The  Hill  as  worked  out  in  the  fif- 
teen years  between  1885,  when  the  school 
came  fully  into  his  possession,  and  1900.  But 
under  this  general  continuity  of  subject,  there 
is  this  difference.  The  chapter  preceding  had 
to  do  with  his  ideals  as  they  were  related 
successively  to  the  various  classes  of  persons 
who  made  up  the  life  of  the  school — the 
mother  of  the  family,  the  masters  and  the 
boys.  This  chapter  will  deal  less  directly  with 
persons  and  more  with  qualities — the  quali- 
ties of  mind  and  heart  which  he  sought  to 
develop  in  the  boys  of  The  Hill. 

He  realized  keenly  that  one  of  the  great 


202       THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

problems  of  a  schoolmaster  rises  out  of  the 
imperfect  training  in  many  homes  from  which 
boys  come.  His  responsibility  was  not  only 
to  preserve  that  which  the  boys  with  finest 
family  influences  had  received,  but  to  bring 
to  a  number  of  others  that  gift  of  idealism 
and  earnest  purpose  which  the  superficiality 
of  their  homes  had  never  inspired.  Of  this 
he  speaks  thus  in  that  same  address  on  "  The 
Ideals  of  the  Home  School,"  which  was 
quoted  in  the  previous  chapter: 

"  The  best  schoolmaster  is  only  half  of  the 
problem — the  best  parent  is  the  other  half. 
Too  few  boys  get  a  fair  start  in  their  homes. 

"  The  foundation  of  their  education  is  not 
laid  where  alone  it  can  be  laid  as  it  should 
be,  through  continual  care  and  discipline  of 
the  children  and  of  their  parents.  Boys  too 
often  arrive  at  school  quite  unfitted  for  the 
life  that  meets  them  there,  because  parents 
do  not  realize  this  immense  influence  of  early 
discipline  and  training. 

"  The  reason  why  we  have  in  this  world 
of  ours  so  many  dull  and  stupid  men  is  be- 
cause in  their  early  years  the  patience  and 
love  that  should  have  striven  to  find  and  de- 
velop these  germs  of  intelligence  were  lack- 
ing in  those  who  had  their  care. 

"  It  is  easier  for  a  parent  to  let  a  child  grow 
up  selfish  than  unselfish;  ungrateful  than 
grateful;  and  thus  it  comes  to  pass  that  a 
boy  enters  school  ready  to  take  everything 


THE  MAKING  OF  MEN  203 

he  can  get  in  the  way  of  pleasure  and  self- 
gratification,  and  feeling  resentment  against 
any  rule  which  seems  to  prevent  indulgence 
of  this  gratification.  It  is  really  late  to  learn 
to  give  up  because  he  ought. 

"  It  should  be  a  parent's  aim  to  have  his 
boy  what  every  boy  ought  to  be.  A  young 
girl  is  apt  to  be  trained  to  give  up — a  boy  to 
demand.  In  tacitly  allowing  in  childhood  one 
sex  to  look  down  upon  the  other,  the  founda- 
tion is  laid  of  the  spirit  by  which  a  man  gains 
the  advantage,  when  he  is  grown  up,  of  being 
able  to  despise  what  he  uses  for  his  own  sel- 
fish purpose. 

"  Our  truly  unselfish  men  are  those  who 
either  through  their  homes  or  through  some 
other  outside  cause  have  been  controlled  dur- 
ing their  boyhood  and  young  manhood,  and 
thus  drawn  out  of  themselves  and  forced  into 
action  for  some  idealistic  motive." 

In  the  first  sentence  of  this  same  address, 
it  will  be  remembered,  he  had  said :  "  In  the 
ideal  home  boys  are  early  taught  obedience, 
truthfulness,  purity,  unselfishness,  service." 

As  between  the  boys  who  had,  and  the  boys 
who  had  not  been  thus  taught  at  home,  there 
was  a  difference  in  the  difficulty  of  the  task 
which  faced  him  in  the  school,  but  for  all 
alike  it  was  directed  to  the  same  end.  He 
wanted  to  deepen  in  those  who  particularly 
understood,  and  to  create  in  those  who  had 
still  to  learn,  the  realization  of  what  obe- 


204      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

dience,     truthfulness,     purity,     unselfishness, 
service,  meant  for  them. 


The  obedience  of  which  he  spoke  was  no 
slavish  subjection  to  a  reign  of  fear.  It  stood 
in  his  thoughts  for  the  boy's  willing  con- 
formity to  the  right  standards  of  the  school 
which  all  must  accept  who  were  to  accept 
its  life.  On  this  point  he  could  have  no  re- 
fusal and  no  evasion.  "  His  vital  and  fatal 
lack,"  he  wrote  to  the  father  of  one  boy  who 
was  about  to  be  sent  away,  "  is  that  of  obe- 
dience. He  has  so  indulged  himself  that  self- 
pleasing  is  the  law  of  his  life,  and  deference 
to  a  higher  law  seems  repugnant  to  the  boy. 
...  It  is  needless  for  me  to  specialize  his 
derelictions;  they  have  all  lain  along  the  line 
of  disloyalty  to  our  known  rules  and  wishes, 
and  even  in  several  instances  where  he  had 
received  particular  instructions  and  cautions, 
we  have  had  to  recognize  the  same  spirit  of 
pertinacious  wilfulness  and  insubordination. 
The  reflex  action  of  such  a  spirit  upon 
younger  boys,  and  even  upon  older  ones,  if 
it  be  unchecked  and  unchanged  by  such  re- 
strictions and  discipline  as  are  brought  to 
bear  upon  it,  is  of  a  grievous  nature,  and 
your  .  .  .  experience  will  reinforce  my  po- 
sition touching  the  vital  necessity  of  submis- 


THE  MAKING  OF  MEN  205 

sion  to  law  as  the  primal  condition  of  moral, 
as  well  as  physical,  life  and  well-being." 

That  obedience  meant  in  his  thought  not  the 
mere  submission  to  rules  which  forbade 
wrongdoing,  but  rather  the  earnest  and  manly 
willingness  to  take  up  loyally  the  work  of  the 
school,  is  well  revealed  in  this  other  letter  to 
the  parents  of  a  boy  who,  though  continually 
promising  to  do  better,  persisted  in  an  evasive 
and  shifty  idleness: 

"I  agree  .  .  .  that  his  faults  are  rather 
negative  than  positive.  .  .  .  Yet  so  quickly 
repentant  a  temperament  is,  in  some  respects, 
a  less  promising  one  than  is  revealed  by  a 
persistency  or  determination  in  wrong-doing. 
In  the  latter  case,  it  often  is  a  question  of 
direction;  in  the  former,  a  question  of  purpose 
and  power.  We  must  strive  patiently  to 
rouse  in  him  a  manlier  and  more  purposeful 
spirit.  He  must  be  made  to  feel  that  there 
is  (for  him)  a  greater  moral  danger  in  aim- 
lessness  than  in  misdirected  aim." 

Against  such  vacillation  and  shiftlessness, 
his  call  was — as  he  once  wrote  it — "  to  gird 
yourself  with  might  in  the  inner  man  "  for 
that  obedience  which  is  not  to  rules  but  to 
the  high  majesty  of  accepted  duty.  "  The 
religion  of  a  boy,"  he  wrote  on  a  penciled 
memorandum  of  what  was  evidently  a  talk 
he  gave  in  the  school,  "  means  learning  what 


206      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

duty  is  and  caring  much  and  always  for  it. 
All  else  is  accessory;  this  is  essence." 


And  with  obedience,  truthfulness.  In  no 
way  did  John  Meigs  impress  himself  more 
powerfully  upon  his  boys  than  in  his  own  ab- 
solute truthfulness  and  sincerity  and  his  ha- 
tred of  everything  mean  and  false.  There 
was  nothing  tepid  in  his  moral  judgments, 
and  no  blurring  of  distinctions  which  ought 
to  be  kept  clear. 

"  I  think  that  the  first  thing  which  im- 
pressed me,"  said  one  of  the  boys,  "  was  his 
hatred  of  a  lie  or  a  sham.  This  was  so  im- 
pressed upon  me  by  one  of  his  talks  one 
morning  at  prayers,  soon  after  I  came,  that 
I  made  up  my  mind  right  there  that  he  would 
never  have  to  talk  about  that  on  my  account 
if  I  could  help  it.  So  many  of  the  boys  were 
afraid  of  him, — afraid  because  they  had  done 
some  wrong  that  he  would  not  forgive  them. 
They  did  not  know  his  big  heart.  I  have 
heard  many  a  fellow  say,  *  Well,  what  shall 
I  tell  him  ? '  I  always  said,  '  Go  and  tell  the 
whole  truth/  I  do  not  recollect  a  time  when 
a  fellow  did  go  like  a  man  and  tell  the  whole 
story  that  he  did  not  get  the  help  that  he 
was  seeking  and  come  away  feeling  that 
he  had  a  friend  he  did  not  know  of  before  he 


THE  MAKING  OF  MEN  207 

had  the  talk  with  Professor.     On  the  other 
hand,  those  who  went  with  excuses  and  the 
thought  of  hiding  the  fault,  came  out  feeling, 
oh,  so  mean  and  small!" 
And  two  others  said: 

"  Professor's  strongest  characteristic,  as  I 
remember  it,  was  his  absolute  abhorrence  of 
anything  that  was  deceitful  or  underhanded, 
and  I  remember  that  he  never  stole  in  on  any 
of  the  boys  unawares,  either  in  our  rooms  or 
in  the  schoolroom,  as  his  tread  down  the  hall 
was  always  distinctly  heard;  and  I  do  not 
remember  ever  having  been  spied  upon  by 
any  of  the  teachers  while  at  The  Hill.  I 
think  this  way  of  putting  the  boys  on  their 
honor  was  the  thing  which  impressed  me 
most  during  my  five  years  at  school. 

"  I  remember  the  Professor's  plain  speaking 
and  openness.  He  never  minced  matters  in 
talking  to  us  boys  in  the  schoolroom,  but  I 
do  not  think  that  any  fair-minded  man,  look- 
ing back  upon  those  days,  can  doubt  for  a 
moment  the  Professor's  devotion  to  the  very 
highest  principles  of  manhood,  which,  from 
the  outset,  we  all  knew  he  insisted  on  the 
school's  standing  for.  I  am  sure  that  it  was 
due  to  the  Professor's  influence,  that  there 
was  no  sneaking  and  no  cheating." 

Yet,  though  he  could  feel  so  intensely  in 
this  matter  of  truthfulness,  though  he  could 
write  to  one  boy,  "  Unless  you  get  down  to 
the  very  bed-rock  of  character,  which  is  truth- 


208       THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

speaking  and  truth-loving,  you  will  be  un- 
able really  to  change  your  life,"  and  though 
in  the  case  of  deliberate  falsehood  he  could 
be — as  one  said  of  him — "  terrible  as  an 
avenging  angel,"  yet  he  could  be  patient  and 
forbearing  when  he  thought  that  a  boy's 
wrong  was  capable  of  some  charitable  inter- 
pretation, and  very  compassionate  when  a  boy 
confessed  manfully  and  repented. 

"  Boys  have  a  great  deal  of  human  nature 
in  them,"  he  wrote  once,  "  and  men  and 
women  are  few  indeed  who  do  not,  on  the 
first  impulse,  seek  to  vindicate  themselves, 
despite  the  apparent  or  real  fault  that  they 
may  have  committed." 

And  again: 

"  Where  a  boy  does  what  he  knows  as  well 
as  we  to  be  wrong,  and  has  the  honesty  and 
courage  to  admit  it,  whatever  be  the  char- 
acter of  the  offense,  he  may  be  sure  that  I 
am  ready  to  go  to  the  death  with  him — 
while  his  spirit  is  right." 

How  his  heart  agonized  when  the  boys  had 
proven  false,  this  letter  best  can  show: 

"  Saturday  has  come  and  brings  with  it  no 
cessation  of  the  work  and  worry  that  has 
crowded  the  week.  It  seems  sometimes  as 
if  I  were  losing  my  grip  on  things  deeper 


THE  MAKING  OF  MEN  209 

than  physical.  I  feel  that  this  year  more 
things  have  happened  to  humble  and  discredit 
me  with  myself  than  in  almost  all  prior  years 
combined.  I  had  resolved,  vainly,  to  keep 
silence  as  to  a  most  agonizing  trial  that  this 
week  has  consummated.  We  have  had  to 
expel  four  boys  for  drinking  on  a  driving 
party,  and  to  put  two  on  probation  for  a  simi- 
lar offense.  Think  of  my  coming  home  to 
such  a  trial,  involving  Sixth  Formers  almost 
exclusively!  Their  parents,  so  far  as  I  have 
heard  from  them,  are  simply  cruel  in  their 
words  and  feelings,  and  had  I  debauched 
them  I  could  scarcely  have  been  more  of  a 
monster  of  duplicity  or  wickedness.  Then 
several  boys  stayed  in  Philadelphia  overnight 
at  the  beginning  of  the  term  and  lied  about 
it,  and  what  is  worse,  lied,  constructively,  to 
their  parents  and  dishonored  themselves 
rankly.  I  am  just  used  up  and  feel  almost 
disheartened  with  other  problems  to  face. 
God  help  me!  A  glimmering  of  light  in  this 
unusual  darkness  comes  through  A.  ... 
who  has  come  to  me  voluntarily,  and  after 
confessing  deeper  sins  than  he  has  ever  com- 
mitted before,  expresses  his  determination  to 
turn  absolutely  and  unreservedly  to  Christ 
as  his  only  Saviour  from  the  sin  that  does  so 
easily  beset  him.  This  helps  me  a  bit.  S.  .  .  . 
will  probably  consent  to  go  with  him  for 
the  summer  as  teacher  and  friend.  This  is 
A.  .  .  .'s  own  idea  and  shows  appreciation 
of  the  deepening  struggle.  God  bless  him 
and  help  him!  This  is  a  sad  letter;  God 
knows  my  heart  is  sadder  still.  I  feel  cast 


210      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

down  and  almost  bewildered.  I  ought  not 
to  tell  you  this,  but  it  seems  sometimes  as 
if  my  heart  would  break  if  I  did  not." 

He  knew  that  the  finest  truthfulness  could 
flourish  not  in  an  atmosphere  of  fear,  but  of 
love  only;  and  such  an  atmosphere  he  tried 
to  make  the  boys  he  governed  feel. 

He  said: 

"  Perfect  truth  can  be  the  outcome  only  of 
perfect  trust;  and  perfect  trust  can  be  the 
outcome  only  of  perfect  love.  The  more  we 
love,  the  more  we  trust;  and  where  we  trust 
perfectly,  we  cannot  lie.  If  a  child  lies,  it  is 
because  he  does  not  trust;  .and  whose  fault 
is  this?  Those  to  whom  we  cannot  lie  are 
those  we  really  love.  The  most  ordinary 
cause  for  lying  in  a  child  is  the  desire  to 
escape  punishment  or  to  help  him  get  some- 
thing he  wants,  or  to  help  him  to  get  it  in 
his  own  way.  Another  reason,  though  more 
complex,  why  a  child  will  lie  is  that  he  wishes 
to  control  his  own  life.  This  is  the  reason 
generally  why  grown-up  people  lie. 

"  The  boy  will  let  you  in  to  help  him  as 
soon  as  he  has  found  you  worthy  of  love.  It 
is  very  right  for  a  boy  to  tell  the  truth,  but 
it  is  far  more  important  that  your  boy's  char- 
acter should  become  a  character  which  can- 
not tell  a  lie.  Truth  is  to  be  gained  only  by 
perseverance  in  its  practice  by  downright  hard 
work.  A  boy  obeys  a  rule  of  school  because 
he  must;  if  he  find  himself  at  a  school  where 


THE  MAKING  OF  MEN  211 

love  underlies  the  rule  he  will,  by  degrees, 
obey  because  he  ought.  A  true  disciplinarian 
must  be  a  true  lover.  True  obedience  is  the 
expression  of  love." 

The  measure  in  which  John  Meigs  himself 
embodied  his  own  ideal  of  high,  yet  loving 
challenge  to  a  boy's  truthfulness  was  nobly 
expressed  in  an  editorial  in  the  Outlook  of 
November,  1911,  by  Ernest  Hamlin  Abbott, 
himself  a  graduate  of  The  Hill: 

"  Even  those  who  owe  most  to  him  cannot 
explain  his  power;  they  remember,  however, 
certain  things  that  might  help  to  describe 
it.  They  can  remember  that  he  never  ap- 
peared suddenly  upon  them,  but  that  always 
his  heavy  footfall,  every  ounce  of  his  great 
frame  telling  at  each  step,  resounded  through 
the  corridors  as  he  approached;  and  in  the 
memory  of  that  sound  they  find  their  most 
vivid  impression  of  what  is  meant  by  the 
hatred  of  sham,  subterfuge  and  unfairness. 
They  can  remember  the  silence  that  fell  upon 
the  gathering  of  boys  when  they  saw  in  his 
face  the  suppressed  anger  at  some  meanness 
or  pretense,  and  awaited  the  words  that  would 
fall  like  cudgels  on  the  offender;  and  in  the 
memory  of  such  an  occasion  they  find  their 
most  vivid  impression  of  what  is  meant  by 
the  searching  of  conscience.  They  remember 
that  even  while  still  wincing  from  some  just 
rebuke  they  -were  willing  to  go  to  him,  if 
need  be,  with  their  confidences;  and  in  that 


212      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

memory  they  have  their  best  example  of  what 
it  means  to  be  chastened  as  a  son." 


In  the  chapel  of  Eton  there  hangs,  like  a 
silent  challenge  to  all  that  is  high  and  pure 
in  the  soul  of  a  boy,  the  lovely  painting  by 
Watts  of  the  young  Sir  Galahad — the  Knight 
Unstained.  A  great  print  of  it  hung  on  the 
wall  of  the  schoolroom  at  The  Hill,  with 
Tennyson's  lines  in  gilt  upon  the  frame: 

"  My  good  sword  carves  the  casques  of  men, 

My  tough  lance  thrusteth  sure, 
My  strength  is  as  the  strength  of  ten, 
Because  my  heart  is  pure." 

With  all  his  power  John  Meigs  sought  to 
make  his  boys  believe  that  the  strength  of 
noblest  manhood  is  built  on  purity,  and  that 
impurity  is  weakness  and  shame.  As  early 
as  1886,  he  had  begun  to  feel  the  urgent 
duty  which  rested  upon  him  to  educate  the 
boys  in  this  direction.  In  a  letter  of  Novem- 
ber 4th,  in  that  year  he  writes :  "  I  have  sent 
for  three  books  and  a  lot  of  tracts  from  the 
Philanthropistf  adding  a  mite  of  surplus  for 
their  work.  Here  lies  our  great  work  with 
our  boys,  I  am  persuaded." 

More  and  more,  as  the  years  went  on,  he 
came  to  feel  with  a  kind  of  awful  intensity 


THE  MAKING  OF  MEN  213 

the  dreadful  havoc  which  impure  thoughts 
and  purposes  and  habits  could  work  in  a  boy's 
life. 

In  one  of  his  letters  to  parents  he  writes 
how  a  boy,  after  denying  certain  immorali- 
ties, came  and  "  explained  to  me  certain  social 
and  domestic  conditions  which,  naturally 
enough,  conduced  to  such  a  life  as  he  con- 
fessed to  have  been  leading  prior  to  his  arrival 
here.  I  was  deeply  moved  by  the  revelations, 
and  expressed,  then  and  there,  my  desire  and 
determination  to  render  him  all  the  help 
within  my  power,  compatible  with  my  always 
urgent  duty  to  the  other  and  younger  mem- 
bers of  the  family,  of  which  he  had  become 
a  part." 

But  the  boy  had  not  responded  to  the  help 
held  out,  and  the  letter  goes  on: 

"Along  the  line  of  evil  communications, 
aside  altogether  from  overt  acts  committed 
.  .  .,  the  power  of  impure-minded  boys  is 
simply  frightful,  and  my  own  experience  of 
twenty  years  confirms  me  in  the  conviction 
that  the  greatest  peril  to  young  boys,  in  so 
intimate  associations  as  exist  here,  is  due 
rather  to  the  moral  atmosphere  environing 
boys  of  B.  .  .  ,'s  moral  character  than  to 
the  allurements  of  their  wrong-doing,  while 
they  are  actually  and  truly  under  our  control 
and  restraint  as  our  life-work  with  them  goes 
on.  In  consideration  of  this,  it  has  become 


214      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

necessary  to  drop  or  dismiss  from  the  school, 
during  the  term  just  closed,  six  or  eight  boys. 
— not  to  punish,  discredit  or  disgrace  these 
boys  or  their  friends,  but  to  preserve  such  a 
moral  tone  in  the  school  as  we  owe  to  the 
parents  of  the  younger  and  susceptible  boys, 
who  become  all  too  easily  and  unconsciously 
the  victims  of  those  whose  lives  and  char- 
acters have  not  been  shaped  and  guided  in  a 
wise  and  salutary  way." 

In  connection  with  the  mention  in  the  pre- 
vious letter  of  "  certain  social  and  domestic 
conditions,  which  naturally  enough  conduce 
to  such  a  life  as  he  confessed  to  have  been 
leading,"  the  following  letter  concerning  an- 
other and  wholly  different  boy  finds  appro- 
priate place.  It  is  not  pleasant  reading,  but 
it  is  worth  perpetuating  for  two  reasons: 
first,  because  it  shows  the  way  in  which  John 
Meigs  could  bring  the  boys  to  disclose  to 
him  their  inmost  confidences,  and  because  in 
the  second  place,  it  helps  unveil  the  perils 
to  which — all  unconsciously  to  fathers  and 
mothers — their  boys  may  be  subjected: 

"  I  am  sure  that  you  will  be  glad  to  know 
that  I  had  last  night  a  most  reassuring  con- 
versation with  T.  .  .  .,  touching  the  mat- 
ter of  his  summer's  experiences.  .  .  .  He 
told  me  that  the  stablemen  and  butler  were 
impure  and  vile  in  their  conversation  with 
him,  and  exerted  their  pernicious  influence  to 


THE  MAKING  OF  MEN  215 

the  utmost  in  seeking  to  defile  his  mind  and 
thoughts  by  their  lewd  and  abominable  talk. 
He  censured  himself  without  stint  for  not  re- 
coiling instantly  from  their  advances,  but 
said  that  having  no  congenial  associates  he 
drifted  into  their  company  all  too  easily,  and 
once  under  their  spell,  so  to  speak,  he  found 
it  hard  to  recover  himself.  ...  Of  course 
there  was  no  overt  act  of  impurity  in  which 
he  was  engaged,  and  he  now  looks  back  upon 
his  associations  with  those  vile  fellows  with 
abhorrence  and  inexpressible  regret.  Since 
his  return,  he  tells  me  that  he  has  had  no 
conversation  with  anyone  that  has  served  to 
revive  or  keep  alive  his  mental  state  of  the 
summer,  but  has  been  steadily  regaining  his 
old-time  freedom  from  such  besetments.  His 
manner  to  me  was  confidential  and  affection- 
ate, and  responsive  in  the  extreme,  and  I  tried 
to  give  such  practical  aid  as  will,  I  hope, 
simplify  the  dear  boy's  recovery  of  his  well- 
earned  self-respect  of  former  years." 

In  another  instance  he  writes  to  another 
father: 

"  Do  you  feel  secure  in  the  matter  on 
C.  .  .  .'s  associates  and  associations  in  Chi- 
cago? The  indications  that  we  have  had  here 
are  such  as  to  throw  grave  doubts  upon  their 
salutary  influence. 

"  Do  you  really  know  what  he  is  doing  in 
the  hours  that  are  passed  from  under  the 
family-roof? 

"  I  ask  these  questions,  not  to  alarm,  but 


2i6      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

to  suggest  the  reasonable  occasion  for  a  closer 
scrutiny  than  you  have  perhaps  felt  it  neces- 
sary to  give  to  C.  .  .  .'s  irresponsible 
hours." 

As  to  the  depth  of  his  feeling  concerning 
what  impurity  could  mean  in  moral  damage, 
this  letter  can  best  show: 

"  Looking  at  my  duty  to  my  household 
from  the  standpoint  of  one  who  is  charged 
with  the  responsibility  that,  at  times,  so 
presses  upon  one's  spirits  that  I  am  con- 
strained almost  to  cry  out  in  my  solicitude 
for  my  boys,  I  have  come  to  the  deliberate 
conviction  that  of  all  the  disqualifications  for 
membership  in  my  school  no  other  can  be 
compared,  in  its  deadly  and  inevitable  effect, 
with  that  of  impurity.  This  is  so  insidious 
that  sleepless  vigilance  cannot  counteract  its 
diabolical  effects.  By  day  and  by  night  its 
foul  trail  is  made  in  the  lives  of  boys,  young 
and  old,  and  only  God  knows  how  many 
young  souls  are  imperiled  by  the  pernicious 
influence  of  one  boy's  speech  and  behavior. 

"As  for  me,  I  simply  cannot  tolerate  the  idea 
of  incurring  the  responsibility  that  attaches 
to  me  in  so  far  as  I  actively  or  passively  sub- 
ject to  the  influence  of  a  boy  who  is  impure 
those  young  natures  whose  unfolding  and  up- 
building are  committed  to  me,  by  their  anx- 
ious parents,  under  God.  ...  I  had  rather 
incur  the  risk  of  besmearing  the  very  walls 
of  my  boys'  rooms  with  the  germs  of  some 
foul  contagion  than  to  expose  young,  and  it 


THE  MAKING  OF  MEN  217 

may  be  innocent,  boys  to  the  peril  of  deadly 
immoral  contagion,  for  which  I  know  no 
remedy  short  of  divinely  miraculous  inter- 
position." 

The  longer  he  lived  and  worked,  the  more 
John  Meigs  cried  out  in  spirit  against  the 
cowardly  silence  of  so  many  parents  toward 
their  boys  concerning  the  great  and  solemn 
mysteries  of  growing  life,  and  the  more  he 
realized  that  loving  and  positive  counsel  must 
take  the  place  of  the  evasions  which  leave 
boys  to  find  out  what  ought  to  be  holy  facts 
through  perverted  and  degrading  ways. 

He  said  in  his  address  already  mentioned: 

"  The  diffidence  or  cowardice  or  indiffer- 
ence of  parents  in  homes  not  ideal  touching 
the  enlightenment  of  the  young  boy  as  to  the 
facts  of  life  and  birth,  the  recurrent  miracle, 
and  yet  the  very  type  and  embodiment  of  law, 
throws  upon  the  schoolmaster,  in  whose  heart 
the  ideals  of  his  school  are  the  measure  of 
his  effort,  a  grave  responsibility  which  is  dis- 
charged simply  and  adequately.  No  boy  can 
sin  in  ignorance  who  has  been  a  few  weeks 
a  member  of  his  great  household." 

In  the  other  address,  directed  particularly 
to  those  who  were  thinking  of  becoming 
teachers,  Meigs  wrote: 

"  The  body,  its  reverent,  radiant  uses ;  the 
mind,  its  subtle  and  intricate  processes;  the 


218      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

soul,  its  strenuous  and  triumphant  emergence 
from  the  toils  of  body  and  of  mind;  these  seek 
and  find  in  a  true  teacher  the  tender,  tire- 
less servant  of  the  whole  man.  If  you  would 
best  serve  the  physical  life  of  youth,  as  friend, 
teacher,  father,  you  will  find  one  duty  clearly 
paramount — such  a  preparation  of  mind  and 
spirit  as  will  enable  you  simply,  reverently, 
and  faithfully  to  present  to  boyhood  the 
truths  of  the  sacred  uses  of  the  body,  which 
the  cowardice  of  parents,  the  perversions  of 
the  vicious,  or  the  inanities  of  the  ignorant 
have  befouled  or  beclouded,  to  the  disaster  of 
body,  mind  and  soul.  Should  you  ask  me  what 
most  crucial  test  the  vitality  of  early  religious 
and  moral  training  must  survive,  I  would  say 
that  of  sexual  purity.  I  have  been  more  and 
more  deeply  stirred,  year  by  year,  as  I  have 
been  convinced  of  the  sad  havoc  caused  by  the 
prevalent  neglect  of  parents  in  dealing  with 
their  sons  in  respect  of  this  fundamental 
moral  question  of  boyhood  and  young  man- 
hood. United  States  senators,  learned  judges, 
clergymen,  lawyers,  physicians  even,  have 
confessed  their  failure  or  reluctance  to  state 
simply,  reverently,  savingly  to  their  sons  the 
truth  which  might  have  averted  frightful  dis- 
aster. Parental  cowardice,  or  mock-modesty, 
is  a  challenge  to  the  manhood  of  the  teacher, 
who  may  not  shrink  from  the  faithful  decla- 
ration of  necessary  truth  whereon  may  rest 
the  strength  that  is  the  strength  of  ten  be- 
cause the  heart  is  pure.  And  with  body,  mind 
and  soul  poised  so  delicately  in  this  impal- 
pable, and  yet  mighty,  integrity,  what  less 


THE  MAKING  OF  MEN  219 

than  loving,  reverent  hands  may  deftly  touch 
the  tremulous  life?" 

For  his  own  part,  John  Meigs  took  up  with 
all  earnestness  the  responsibility  of  talking 
to  his  boys  at  The  Hill  in  the  way  in  which 
— ideally — he  would  have  wished  that  he  could 
be  sure  their  own  fathers  had  already  done. 

Here  is  one  lad's  testimony: 

"  I  shall  always  remember  a  little  talk  Pro- 
fessor gave  the  older  boys  in  his  study  one 
time,  on  right  living.  Keep  yourself  pure 
and  everything  else  will  take  care  of  itself, 
was  the  subject,  and  in  the  course  of  his  re- 
marks he  worded  the  idea  about  as  follows: 
*  Keep  yourself  pure  and  all  things  will  be 
added  unto  you/  and  it  is  this  expression,  so 
direct  in  its  appeal  to  ambition,  and  so  won- 
derfully comprehensive  of  all  of  life's  teach- 
ings, that  has  ever  been  associated  in  my 
mind  with  Professor,  and  has  grown  in  im- 
portance each  year  as  I  keep  realizing  more 
fully  its  powerful  truths. 

"  I  do  not  think  that  many  of  us  fellows 
thought  very  seriously  of  this  at  the  time. 
There  is  a  certain  age  at  which  young  fellows 
feel  perfectly  self-sufficient  in  respect  to  their 
ability  to  lead  a  life  of  integrity  and  virtue. 
The  exhortation  to  keep  yourself  pure  is  ac- 
cepted as  more  or  less  of  a  platitude  in  much 
the  same  way  as  the  maxim,  '  Be  honest  and 
you  will  be  respected,'  or  the  advice  to  be 
brave  and  have  the  courage  of  your  convic- 


220      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

tions.  In  many  cases  it  is  not  until  much 
later  in  life  that  a  fellow  begins  to  realize 
the  significance  of  these  precepts  in  the  final 
molding  of  his  character,  in  that  they  are 
something  that  he  has  to  fight  for.  He  comes 
to  understand  that  he  cannot  continue  to 
follow  the  line  of  least  resistance  and  be  sure 
of  going  straight.  He  comes  face  to  face 
with  the  fact  that  his  self-sufficiency  does  not 
amount  to  much,  as  the  intricate  and  wider 
experiences  of  life  force  his  character  to  a 
test  at  every  turn.  It  is  here  that  the  beliefs 
nourished  by  the  finer  associations  of  his  life 
become  strong  assets  and  tide  him  over,  and 
the  pretty  phrases  of  early  days  grow  into 
convictions  and  hard  learned  truths.  The 
words  of  Professor,  '  Keep  yourself  pure  and 
all  things  else  will  be  added  unto  you/  are 
words  of  profoundest  wisdom,  and  it  is  only 
with  the  years  that  one  comes  to  the  full  ap- 
preciation of  them." 

It  was  because  of  the  real  moral  training 
which  he  thought  they  afforded — and  not 
least  because  of  their  contribution  to  purity — 
that  Meigs  most  valued  athletics.  This  is  not 
to  say  that  he  lacked  a  spontaneous  interest 
in  the  fun  and  excitement  of  the  boys'  games 
for  the  games'  sake.  On  the  contrary,  he 
took  a  keen  pleasure  in  watching  the  boys 
play,  and  nearly  always  accompanied  the 
teams  when  they  went  away  from  The  Hill 
for  the  big  games  on  the  grounds  of  the  rival 


THE  MAKING  OF  MEN  221 

schools.  He  understood,  too,  how  intensely 
much  this  rivalry  meant  to  the  boys'  pride, 
and  after  some  Hill  victory  in  an  important 
game  he  would  often  telegraph  the  results 
to  some  one  of  The  Hill  graduates  among  the 
students  in  each  of  the  big  universities,  in 
order  that  the  news  might  be  spread  among 
the  "old  boys"  there.  But  though  he  thus 
could  share  the  boys'  enthusiasm,  those  who 
watched  him  at  baseball  and  football  games 
and  knew  his  attitude  to  the  boys  who  played, 
understood  that  he  was  thinking  of  something 
larger  than  victory  or  defeat.  He  was  watch- 
ing as  with  the  eyes  of  one  who  saw  the 
chances  for  courage,  and  endurance,  and  fair- 
ness and  generosity,  and  was  waiting  to  see 
how  the  boys  would  meet  these  finer  tests. 

On  the  technical  side,  the  matter  of  the 
boys'  exercise  was  very  exactly  organized. 
In  the  opening  days  of  the  school,  every  boy 
was  thoroughly  examined  by  the  physical  di- 
rector and  the  school  physician,  and  a  record 
made  of  his  weight  and  measurements,  his 
muscular  strength  and  general  condition. 
These  examinations  were  repeated  every  half- 
year,  and  on  the  basis  of  them  the  physical 
director  arranged  for  the  boy  whatever  par- 
ticular training  he  thought  advisable.  Every 
boy  was  required  to  take  part  in  some  form 
of  athletics  on  every  schoolday.  In  the  fall 


222       THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

term,  a  boy  might  be  on  one  of  the  many 
football  teams,  or  he  could  play  tennis ;  in  the 
spring  term,  there  was  tennis  again,  and 
baseball;  and  a  boy  had  to  make  report  every 
day  that  he  had  taken  the  exercise  required. 
In  the  winter  term,  all  the  boys  were  formed 
into  gymnasium  classes,  which  met  at  as- 
signed hours  in  the  afternoon.  For  a  number 
of  years  there  was  military  drill,  but  this  was 
discontinued  in  1902. 

One  of  the  happiest  choices  that  John  Meigs 
ever  made  among  the  men  whom  he  brought 
to  The  Hill  was  the  man  who  became  the 
physical  director.  This  was  Mr.  Michael  F. 
Sweeney,  himself  a  famous  athlete,  and  the 
holder  when  he  came  to  The  Hill,  and  for 
many  years  thereafter,  of  the  world's  record 
in  the  high  jump.  As  the  years  went  on,  the 
sphere  of  Mr.  Sweeney's  control  and  influence 
widened.  He  became  not  only  the  physical 
director  of  the  gymnasium  and  track  work, 
but  also  the  coach  and  controlling  spirit  of 
all  the  other  organized  games  in  the  school. 
Between  him  and  the  headmaster  there  was 
a  sympathy  and  understanding  which  grew 
into  the  most  loving  identity  of  purpose;  and 
into  all  his  relationship  with  the  boys  who 
were  the  athletes  at  The  Hill — and  therefore 
the  heroes  of  the  boys'  world — Mr.  Sweeney 
brought  not  only  his  technical  skill,  but  the 


THE  MAKING  OF  MEN  223 

power  of  a  Christian  idealism  which  left  its 
deep  impress  on  the  spirit  of  many  a  lad 
who  would  hardly  have  been  reached  through 
any  other  channel. 

This  whole  higher  aspect  of  school  athletics 
in  its  relationship  to  character  was  expressed 
thus  by  the  headmaster: 

"  Physical  training  also  takes  high  rank  in 
the  scheme  of  the  school  which  stands  for 
ideals  of  boyhood's  training.  The  high  ethical 
value  of  physical  training  needs  only  to  be 
considered  to  be  recognized  as  the  basal  con- 
dition of  mental  and  moral  discipline.  The 
final  test  of  its  efficiency  must  deal  not  only 
with  muscular  development,  but  with  the 
achievements  of  mind  and  soul.  The  train- 
ing of  the  will  and  intelligence  has  its  poten- 
tials deeply  laid  in  the  physical  man,  and  the 
new  physiology  and  the  new  psychology  are 
compelling  the  acceptance  by  educators  of 
this  gracious  correlation  of  the  wonders  which 
God  has  wrought  in  man.  .  .  . 

"  The  average  collegian,  if  healthy,  is  more 
apt  at  expressing  himself  fully  in  terms  of 
muscularity  than  in  terms  of  mentality;  and 
the  obvious  fact  that  college  morality  im- 
proved so  wonderfully  during  the  last  genera- 
tion was,  undoubtedly,  due  largely  to  the  in- 
fluence of  athletics  which  demanded  regular 
habits,  clean  lives,  and  pre-occupatipn  for 
body  and  mind.  The  grosser  dissipations  of 
university  life,  in  ante-bellum  times,  could  not 
withstand  the  new  spirit  engendered  by  the 


224      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

athletic  standards,  which  have  as  their  noblest 
exponents  to-day  many  men  famous  for  spir- 
itual and  intellectual  power. 

"While  one  must  recognize  and  deprecate 
in  some  cases  the  physical  and  moral  reaction 
from  the  rigorous  training  which  athletics 
impose  during  their  characteristic  seasons, 
one  must  admit  that  in  physical  training 
many  a  boy  and  young  man  finds  a  sufficient 
motive  for  integrity  of  life  until  the  deeper 
moral  and  physical  forces  master  his  con- 
science and  his  will. 

"  Even  schoolboys  are  trained  now  to  scorn 
softness  and  self-indulgence  and  to  prize  the 
finest  fruits  of  self-denial  and  self-mastery, 
which  are  plucked  from  the  tree  of  life  itself. 
Strength  and  symmetry  of  body  are  happily 
so  co-ordinated  in  these  better  days  with  their 
logical  and  spiritual  counterpart  that  each 
new  year  adds  fresh  and  convincing  testi- 
mony to  the  real  content  of  physical  training." 


"  Obedience,  truthfulness,  purity  " — thus  it 
will  be  remembered  John  Meigs  named  the 
qualities  he  desired  his  boys  to  win;  and  then 
he  continued  with  these, — "unselfishness, 
service." 

He  knew  many  of  the  boys  who  came  to 
The  Hill  came  from  privileged  families,  and 
he  knew  that  some  would  probably  enter  into 
rich  inheritances.  He  understood  how  im- 
portant it  was  that  to  these  boys  in  particular, 


THE  MAKING  OF  MEN  225 

as  well  as  to  all  boys  in  general,  there  should 
be  presented  the  kind  of  manly  ideals  of  use- 
ful living  which  would  keep  them  from  being 
contented  with  indolent  indulgence  or  selfish 
money-making.  Among  his  papers  is  this 
penciled  memorandum: 

'  Whatever  we  wish  to  see  introduced  into 
a  life  or  a  nation  must  be  first  introduced  into 
its  schools.' — Humboldt. 

"  It  is  a  wide  subject.  According  to  this, 
we  must  look  to  schools  for  a  revival  of  the 
simplicity  of  life,  for  training  in  truth  and 
moral  courage;  for  real  intellectual  training, 
for  giving  men  the  power  of  hard  thought, 
of  seeing  things  as  they  are.  The  school  must 
educate  the  young  to  keen  social  and  political 
interests;  must  bind  classes  together  in  an 
unselfishness  that  is  often  wanting  in  the 
weary  pleasure-seeking  classes;  in  a  word, 
must  revive  public  spirit.  The  school  must 
give  that  self-restraint  of  the  body,  that  purity 
of  moral  tone  and  conduct,  that  moral  horror 
of  degradation,  on  which  more  than  anything 
else  the  welfare  of  the  nation  depends." 

Therefore,  he  tried  to  bring  to  the  school 
for  talks  to  the  boys  as  often  as  possible,  men 
who  were  doing  the  kind  of  virile  work  in 
public  service  which  would  strike  the  boys' 
imagination.  Jacob  Riis,  for  instance,  when 
he  was  in  the  midst  of  his  struggle  to  im- 
prove the  tenement  conditions  in  New  York, 


226       THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

came  more  than  once.  Theodore  Roosevelt, 
when  he  was  police  commissioner,  came  too. 
Woodrow  Wilson,  when  he  was  president  of 
Princeton,  made  an  address  on  Washington's 
birthday  on  "  Patriotism."  Dr.  Frissell,  head 
of  the  great  Hampton  Institute,  which  Samuel 
C.  Armstrong  founded  for  the  education  of 
negroes  and  Indians,  used  to  come,  with  the 
Hampton  Quartet,  and  tell  the  boys  of  the 
work  of  the  school,  at  which  their  gifts  main- 
tained scholarships.  John  Meigs  wanted  the 
boys  to  have  opportunities  made  familiar  to 
them  which  would  inspire  them  to  generosity 
with  their  money,  and  even  more  he  wished 
them  to  learn  the  great  lesson  that  a  real 
patriotism  means  also  the  will  to  give  of 
themselves  in  the  activities  of  loyal  and  un- 
selfish citizenship. 

He  used  to  gather  the  boys  of  the  Sixth 
Form  into  his  study  and  explain  to  them  the 
kind  of  relationship  which  later  when  they 
came  of  age  they  might  bear  to  good  govern- 
ment, and  impress  upon  them  the  importance 
of  voting  in  primaries  and  elections.  Further- 
more, his  advice  was  not  theoretical.  He 
did  not  in  his  own  case  allow  his  school  duties 
to  make  him  narrow  and  academic,  nor  to 
stand  as  an  excuse  for  withholding  his  own 
energies  from  political  matters.  He  never 
sought  any  office  for  himself,  but  he  threw 


THE  MAKING  OF  MEN  227 

his  whole  strength  more  and  more  into  strug- 
gles which  he  believed  concerned  the  public 
good;  and  when  a  matter  of  principle  was 
at  stake,  he  put  as  much  determination  into 
what  seemed  a  small  matter  as  he  would  have 
into  a  great  one.  At  one  time,  for  instance, 
he  joined  a  number  of  other  citizens  of  the 
town  in  a  fight  to  prevent  the  appointment 
as  postmaster  of  a  half-ignorant  and  wholly 
unqualified  man  whom  the  local  political  ring 
wished  to  have  rewarded  for  party  services. 
In  the  carbon  copies  of  his  correspondence 
of  that  year  are  repeated  long  letters  which 
he  wrote  the  postmaster-general,  as  well  as 
references  to  a  visit  which  he  made  to  Wash- 
ington in  person.  It  is  not  to  be  wondered 
at  that  he  felt  strongly  about  the  situation 
of  which  he  could  write  as  follows: 

"  We  simply  awaited  the  development  of 
the  alert  and  vociferous  claimants  for  the 
spoils  of  victory,  hoping  that  the  better  sense 
of  these  men  would  bring  forward  names  of 
candidates  for  the  office  of  a  least  average 
morality  and  repute  in  the  community.  We 
waited  in  vain,  for  of  the  three  aspirants,  one 
was  disqualified  by  gross  moral  unfitness, 
another  alike  by  increasing  bodily  infirmity 
and  notorious  gambling,  and  the  third  [who 
had  been  the  janitor  of  the  market-house] 
is  even  now  before  you  as  the  reluc- 
tant choice  and  residuary  legatee  of  the 


228      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

former  two,  whose  numerous  and  scrupulous 
advocates  seem  to  fancy  that  any  man  in  the 
community  is  man  enough  to  be  postmaster 
if  only  he  can  wear  the  party  collar  and  read 
the  more  legible  addresses  of  the  letters." 

Besides  the  immediate  result  of  preventing 
the  appointment  of  the  man  against  whom  he 
protested,  this  incident  had  lasting  conse- 
quences for  John  Meigs  through  giving  him 
an  insight  into  the  corrupt  indifference  to  the 
public  good  of  a  strong  political  element  in 
Pennsylvania. 

In  subsequent  years  he  threw  himself  with 
generous  energy  into  the  fight  to  break  the 
control  of  this  element  in  state  affairs,  and 
to  compass  the  election  by  the  Pennsylvania 
legislature  of  a  reform  candidate  for  the 
United  States  Senate.  He  did  not  succeed 
in  this  particular  effort,  but  he  was  none  the 
less  ready  to  do  his  best  when  called  upon  for 
service  on  fresh  occasions.  Into  political 
campaigns  which  involved  issues  that  stirred 
his  loyalty  to  what  he  thought  was  right,  he 
put  the  same  aggressive  power  which  he  had 
given  to  his  own  work  at  the  school. 

On  his  desk  for  many  years  he  kept  before 
him  these  words  of  Goethe's :  "  Wo  du  bist, 
set  alles"  and  he  lived  up  to  their  challenge 
in  his  public  as  well  as  his  private  service. 

With   relation   to   the   affairs   of  his   own 


THE  MAKING  OF  MEN  229 

town  particularly  was  his  citizenship  forward- 
looking  and  unselfish.  He  offered  on  one 
occasion  to  pay  the  salary  of  a  teacher  of 
music  for  the  public  schools,  and  helped  make 
possible  the  appointment  of  the  first  health 
officer.  He  was  the  founder  and  president  of 
the  Young  Men's  Christian  Association  and 
when  he  died  he  left  a  large  legacy  to  con- 
struct a  new  building.  He  inaugurated  in 
the  opera  house  a  series  of  Sunday  afternoon 
services,  at  which  the  speaker  was  the 
preacher  (drawn  from  among  the  eminent 
men  of  the  country)  whom  he  had  brought 
to  The  Hill  for  the  morning  Chapel  of  that 
day. 

He  encouraged  the  boys  to  take  part  in 
forms  of  service  which  he  helped  suggest  and 
guide.  In  one  of  his  public  addresses  he 
emphasized  this  point  of  service  for  others 
as  one  of  the  ideals  in  the  training  of  a  good 
school,  and  in  general  terms  he  described 
what  was,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  true  at  The 
Hill: 

"  In  a  school  known  to  me  a  summer  camp 
on  the  coast  of  New  Jersey  has  been  pur- 
chased and  maintained  in  the  summer  vaca- 
tion for  some  years  by  the  boys  and  masters 
for  the  benefit  of  poor  boys  of  the  slums  of 
our  cities.  This  service  and  observation  at 
close  range  of  the  less  favored  classes  sug- 
gest possibilities  of  no  slight  value. 


230      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

"  By  the  same  school  a  mission  is  con- 
ducted near  enough  to  enlist  the  active  co- 
operation of  older  boys  and  of  the  masters 
who  conduct  the  Sunday  evening  services 
during  the  school  year;  and  a  boys'  free  read- 
ing-room for  the  unsheltered  and  ambitious 
lads  of  the  town  is  largely  supported  by 
their  efforts." 

In  his  regard  for  activities  like  these,  John 
Meigs'  spirit  was  concerned  with  something 
far  larger  than  the  details  of  the  immediate 
acts  of  helpfulness.  They  were  for  him  part 
of  an  ideal  which  centered  in  the  very  heart 
of  his  desires  for  the  boys.  His  great  hope 
was  that  through  the  practical  things  he 
helped  them  to  do  for  others  there  might  be 
kindled  in  them  the  high  consciousness  that 
only  as  they  chose  for  themselves  service 
rather  than  self-indulgence  could  they  attain 
their  finest  manhood. 

Here  he  well  knew  that  his  ideals  for  the 
school  had  reached  a  height  which  could  not 
be  scaled  by  human  help  alone.  The  memo- 
randum from  which  we  quoted  just  now  the 
sentences  in  regard  to  training  in  the  school 
for  the  service  of  the  nation,  continued  thus: 

"And,  lastly,  the  school  must  educate,  de- 
velop, guide  and  instruct  that  spiritual  faculty 
in  the  child  or  boy,  which,  by  whatever  name 
we  call  it,  is  supreme.  There  is  no  other 
restraining  power  [than  religion].  Sympa- 


THE  MAKING  OF  MEN  231 

thy,  the  innate  horror  of  doing  wrong  to  a 
fellow  creature;  self-respect,  the  innate  horror 
of  doing  wrong  to  ourselves,  are  real  powers 
with  all  finer  natures.  A  restraining  power 
is  needed.  The  gratification  of  passion  is  an 
intense  reality,  and  can  be  held  in  check  only 
by  a  still  more  intense  reality. 

"  This  must  be  physical  or  spiritual.  It 
must  come  from  the  legislator,  the  doctor,  or 
the  teacher.  The  legislator  can  only  help  to 
diminish  crime  and  does  not  really  touch  the 
case.  The  motive  must  come  from  science  or 
religion.  But  science  gives  a  feeble  sound. 
Science  admits  that  immorality  is  damaging 
to  the  boy.  Science,  as  yet,  does  not  speak 
of  its  effects  on  character.  It  is  not  in  science 
that  we  are  to  look  for  a  restraining  power. 
The  problem  of  school  morality  will  be  solved 
by  a  religious  motive  or  none.  In  so  far  as 
sin  is  a  product  of  circumstances  we  must 
strike  at  the  circumstances;  but  if  sin,  and 
so  far  as  sin,  is  in  human  nature,  it  is  neces- 
sary to  give  boys  some  fresh  power  to  cope 
with  it.  To  give  this  fresh  power,  the  power 
of  conquering  the  selfishness  and  passions  of 
our  lower  nature,  is  surely  the  end  and  aim 
of  all  education." 

At  the  head  of  four  other  pages  in  his  hand- 
writing— which  perhaps  are  notes  of  a  talk 
to  the  boys — there  stands  the  reference: 
I  Corinthians  iii  :  9,— which  verse  begins 
"  For  we  are  laborers  together  with  God." 
From  the  form  of  this  memorandum,  as  also 


232      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

of  the  one  just  quoted,  it  is  not  wholly 
clear  whether  the  words  are  John  Meigs'  own, 
or  whether  he  was  jotting  down  something 
he  had  read  somewhere  and  wished  to  repeat; 
but  in  either  case  the  words  express  what 
with  intense  conviction  he  believed. 

"Are  we  living  with  the  thought  in  our 
minds  that  a  school  of  any  enduring  worth 
must  be  a  center,  a  focus,  a  very  sacred  hearth 
of  the  higher  life  of  the  time — that  there 
ought  to  be  a  clear  and  active  purpose  in  its 
leaders,  nay,  in  the  majority  of  its  average 
members,  to  raise  the  general  life  of  men  in 
some  respect  or  other,  to  rectify  its  standards 
where  they  may  be  defective,  to  set  their  faces 
against  things  or  notions  in  regard  to  which 
the  world  has  gone  astray?  How  many  of  us 
can  say  that  day  by  day  we  set  our  faces  to 
all  this  with  any  serious  or  definite  aim;  that 
our  personal  life  is  marked  and  characterized 
by  anything  which  can  rightly  be  called  a 
distinct  religious  purpose,  that  we  are  con- 
sciously and  methodically  and  professedly 
doing  anything  to  raise  the  moral  life,  to 
quicken  the  spiritual  life,  to  stimulate  the 
intellectual  life? 

"  I  think  of  the  time,  when  from  some 
school,  under  some  influence  which  as  yet 
we  know  not,  there  shall  go  forth  a  new  gen- 
eration of  men  who  shall  be  characterized, 
not  by  some  special  gift,  not  by  some  literary 
accomplishment,  or  some  varnish  of  culture, 
but  by  a  combination  of  gifts  and  strength 


THE  MAKING  OF  MEN  233 

of  spirit  which  shall  stamp  them  as  promi- 
nent workers,  if  not  as  leaders  and  prophets 
in  the  next  stage  of  our  country's  progress. 
There  is  abundant  room,  to  say  nothing  of  a 
crying  need,  for  these  missionaries  of  a  new 
type,  who  shall  be  men  of  cultivated  and  dis- 
ciplined intellect,  enlightened  and  strong; 
who  shall  be  sworn  to  the  new  chivalry  of 
personal  purity  and  the  suppression  of  the 
baser  animal  appetites;  who  shall  be  men  of 
simple  and  pure  tastes,  no  epicurean  senti- 
mentalists— the  declared  enemies  of  luxury, 
whether  vulgar  or  refined;  men,  again,  in 
whom  public  spirit  and  social  purpose  shall 
be  practical  and  guiding  motives,  not  vague 
and  intermittent  sentiments,  who  shall  feel 
the  call  to  alter  those  conditions  of  life  which 
are  working  so  destructively  in  all  our  cities; 
men  who,  with  all  this,  are  not  bigoted,  who 
shall  have  learned  to  know  that  earnestness 
and  toleration  are  not  incompatible,  who  shall 
have  no  respect,  either,  for  that  young  man's 
spurious  liberalism  which  is  a  child  of  in- 
difference, nay  which  is  begotten  by  shallow 
criticism,  of  cynicism  as  its  mother  and  nursed 
by  luxury  and  want  of  faith;  above  all,  men 
whose  life  shall  be  guided  by  a  serious  and 
humble  and  reverent  spirit,  who  may  fairly  be 
described  as  faithful,  religious  and  devout" 

At  the  end  of  the  first  group  of  notes  which 
we  have  quoted  was  this  sentence  also: 

"We  are  in  danger  of  pressing  into  ex- 
tremes one  or  the  other  of  two  axioms  of 


234      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

education:   religion   cannot   be   taught;   reli- 
gion must  be  taught." 


Doubtless  what  he  meant  was  this: 
He  was  familiar  on  the  one  hand  with  the 
insistence  in  many  quarters  that  religion  as 
such  cannot  be  made  a  part  of  the  school 
curriculum,  because  it  rests  upon  a  choice 
that  must  grow  out  of  the  intimate  and  per- 
sonal decision  of  each  single  personality;  but 
as  against  this  he  knew  that  though  religion 
could  not  be  communicated  as  a  classroom 
subject,  it  could  be  kindled  in  boys'  hearts  by 
the  living  touch  of  religious  men  round  them. 
On  the  other  hand,  the  danger  of  those 
who  cried  '  that  religion  must  be  taught '  lay 
in  the  direction  of  the  kind  of  dogmatism 
which  ignores  the  boys'  sensitive  reserve  and 
tries  to  force  upon  them  that  which  can  be 
given  only  when  affection  and  confidence  have 
been  won. 

He  wrote  once  this: 

"  Religious  teaching  must  be  simple,  defi- 
nite, attractive,  personal;  a  Bible-reading 
scheme  within  considerate  limits  is  helpful 
and  stimulating.  The  history  of  the  great 
nations  and  of  the  leaders  of  religious  thought 
in  the  Old  Testament  and  the  New  Testament 
should  be  studied  and  exemplified  by  their 


THE  MAKING  OF  MEN  235 

successors  of  the  later  generations,  and  op- 
portunity given,  outside  of  this  systematic 
study,  by  the  organization  of  voluntary 
classes,  for  the  consideration  of  the  spiritual 
lessons,  especially  those  of  the  New  Testa- 
ment. 

"In  his  First  Epistle  to  the  Corinthians 
Paul  says, '  Knowledge  puffeth  up;  Love  build- 
eth  up/  Here  then  is  the  ideal  of  the  real 
schoolmaster — Love  as  the  master-motive  of 
all  true  life.  The  Love  of  which  Paul  speaks 
is  no  protoplasmic  ooze  of  unctuous  benevo- 
lence nor  saccharine  complaisance.  It  is 
strenuous,  aggressive,  upbuilding.  It  in- 
flames the  heart  and  brain  to  lofty  thought 
and  high  endeavor;  it  quickens  the  mind  to 
command  wisdom's  riches  for  the  fit  endow- 
ment of  Love's  best  gift — '  the  love  that  tops 
the  might — the  Christ  in  God/ — the  love  that 
'  beareth  all  things,  believeth  all  things, 
hopeth  all  things,  endureth  all  things.'  " 

His  whole  conception  of  the  religion  which 
he  sought  to  inspire  in  the  boys'  hearts  was 
tremendously  virile, — or,  as  he  said  love  ought 
to  be,  "  strenuous,  aggressive,  upbuilding." 
He  felt  with  a  quivering  earnestness  the  awful 
reality  of  the  battle  between  good  and  evil, 
righteousness  and  sin.  He  began  a  talk  to 
the  boys  once  with  this  quotation :  "  Gustavus 
Adolphus,  King  of  Sweden,  to  the  Ambassa- 
dor of  the  Elector  of  Brandenburg:  'I  will 
hear  nothing  and  know  nothing  of  neutrality. 


236      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

His  Highness  must  be  friend  or  foe.  When 
I  come  to  his  borders,  he  must  declare  him- 
self hot  or  cold.  The  battle  is  between  God 
and  the  devil.' " 

At  another  time  he  spoke  to  them  on  "  this 
is  the  victory  that  hath  overcome  the  world, 
even  our  faith,"  and  these  notes  show  the 
message  he  sought  to  bring  them: 


"  Do  you  think  that  your  life  is  quite  right 
in  its  standard  and  in  its  attainment?  or  that 
the  standard  and  tone  among  us  generally  is 
quite  right — let  us  say  in  industry,  reverence, 
thoughtfulness?  No  one  would  say  this. 
But  this  standard  is  the  world  for  us.  Is 
there  no  temptation  to  do  wrong,  because 
some  others  do  wrong?  to  cheat  in  work,  be- 
cause some  others  cheat?  to  waste  time,  to 
swear,  to  do  worse  it  may  be,  because  others 
do?  This  influence  of  our  surroundings  is 
the  world  for  us.  And  this  is  the  world  that 
we  are  set  to  overcome.  How  are  we,  first, 
not  to  have  our  own  standard  lowered  by 
copying  the  evil  that  we  see?  and,  secondly, 
how  are  we  to  help  to  improve  the  aims  and 
tone  around  us?  This  is  what  St.  John  means 
by  overcoming  the  world.  It  is  something 
very  practical.  There  is  somewhere  a  power 
which  would  enable  us  to  be  somewhat  more 
like  what  God  would  have  us  to  be,  which 
would  make  us  better  and  stronger  than  we 
are  in  ourselves;  and  make  our  society,  our 
world,  better,  too. 


THE  MAKING  OF  MEN  237 

"  Now  look  at  a  larger  field  outside  these 
walls,  the  hand-workers,  and  below  them  a 
class  of  boys,  and  others,  neglected  from  birth, 
saturated  with  evil.  And  the  cry  of  them 
goes  up  hour  by  hour  to  the  ears  of  the  Lord 
of  the  whole  earth. 

"And,  meanwhile,  what  are  the  lives  of 
our  class?  The  least  we  can  say  is  that  they 
are  not  of  the  standard  which  Christ  holds  up. 
We  very  rarely  regard  wealth  as  a  trust:  we 
treat  it  as  a  possession.  'It  is  mine,  it  is 
mine.  I  will  do  as  I  please  and  who  shall 
say  me  nay? '  This  again  is  the  world,  a  hard 
world  to  touch  and  move,  because  it  is  con- 
tented with  its  ideals. 

:{ There  is  the  world  of  failures  of  our 
industrial  system — the  rough,  the  destitute, 
the  loafer,  the  idler,  the  weak  who  go  to  the 
wall. 

"And  there  is  the  world  of  the  successful, 
who  live  at  ease,  and  have  little  thought  of  a 
kingdom  of  God  on  earth.  There  is  our 
worldliness,  yours  and  mine:  and  we  have  yet 
to  be  conquered.  Somewhere  there  is  a  power 
that  shall  overcome  all  these  worlds  of  degra- 
dation and  low  ideals.  We  turn  to  John  and 
read:  'This  is  the  victory  that  overcometh 
the  world,  even  our  faith.'  It  is  the  declara- 
tion, and  it  is  true,  that  in  all  these  worlds, 
in  purifying  the  individual  life  of  your  single 
self,  or  in  raising  the  tone  of  school  morals, 
or  in  improving  the  life  and  physical  condi- 
tions, amusements,  literature,  morality  of  the 
lowest  class,  or  in  giving  largeness  and  gen- 
erosity and  everyday  patriotism  to  the  class 


238       THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL. 

to  which  we  belong — for  overcoming  these 
worlds,  there  is  one  source  of  victory,  even 
our  faith.  How  full  of  hope  and  force  these 
words  are.  Here  is  something  that  may  make 
the  world  good  and  right  and  beautiful,  even 
our  faith. 

"There  is  something  awful  to  me  in  that 
little  word  our.  It  tells  us  that  we,  the  living 
generation  of  men,  are  the  sole  instruments 
through  which  God  works.  We  do  in  some 
sense  present  to  the  world  the  Living  Christ, 
if  we  profess  to  be  animated  by  His  spirit. 
The  world  judges  Christ  by  us.  If  the  world 
is  to  be  overcome — the  selfishness,  the  squalor, 
heartlessness,  and  our  own  low  standard  of 
the  possibilities  of  human  society — it  is  to 
be  overcome  by  our  faith — if  the  next  gen- 
eration and  century  are  to  be  better  than 
this. 

"  I  scout  the  idea  that  these  evils  are  irre- 
mediable. I  hate  the  practical  infidelity  that 
says,  *  It  is  no  use :  the  scramble  and  struggle 
are  a  part  of  human  nature:  lust  and  intem- 
perance and  mammon-worship  have  always 
existed,  and  always  will  exist/  This  is  not 
faith;  it  is  blank  disbelief.  Why  did  Christ 
come?  to  tell  us  that  the  kingdom  of  God 
shall  come,  and  to  show  us  how  it  is  to  be 
won.  It  is  to  be  won  by  faith.  The  weak 
things  of  this  world,  as  always,  confound  the 
mighty. 

"  You  understand  now,  what  is  to  be  over- 
come by  faith.  But  can  you  also  understand 
what  faith  is?  It  is  the  teaching  of  St.  John, 
in  gospel  and  epistles,  that  the  spirit  that 


THE  MAKING  OF  MEN  239 

was  in  Christ  is  in  a  measure  in  all  of  us,  and 
is  leading  us  on  to  the  Kingdom  of  God,  if  we 
will  go  with  it.  Our  faith  is  that  the  spirit 
of  God  still  lives  in  men,  and  shall  rule  the 
world.  When  that  divine  life,  which  was  at 
its  full  tide  in  Christ,  flows  into  our  dry  chan- 
nels and  flushes  them,  then  victory  will  come. 
Now  we  read  Christ's  words  and  discount 
them  and  explain  them  away.  It  will  not 
always  be  so.  Some  day  we  shall  believe  that 
He  meant  what  He  said ;  and  we  are  beginning 
more  and  more  to  do  so  now. 

"  What  hopeful  signs  there  are  in  the  world ! 
There  are  two  camps  in  every  society;  and 
in  one  of  the  two  we  find  ourselves,  and  one 
of  the  two  you  will  join.  The  one  camp  is  of 
those  who  say  that  conventional  morality,  ex- 
pediency, business  principles,  self-interest,  are 
a  sufficient  basis  for  politics,  commerce,  and 
the  relation  of  man  to  man.  They  distrust 
the  enthusiasm  of  service  and  self-sacrifice 
and  the  idea  of  the  Gospel  as  a  foolish  ele- 
ment. They  bid  the  prophets  prophesy  not. 
The  other  camp  is  of  those  who  say  that  in 
the  social  reformation  that  is  coming  upon 
us,  the  one  safe  guide  is  some  deep  religious 
truth  that  shall  inspire  to  noble  ^deeds— the 
claim  that  all  are  truly  brothers  in  Christ — 
the  faith  that  God  rules  the  world  and  is 
transforming  it  into  His  kingdom. 

"The  first  is  the  camp  of  the  world;  the 
second  the  camp  of  faith  and  the  camp  of 
God.  You  scarcely  know  yet  to  which  you 
belong;  but  you  are  fitting  yourself  by  your 
whole  life  for  one  or  the  other.  ..." 


24o      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

One  of  the  old  Hill  boys,  who  knew  the 
school  in  the  early  years  of  John  Meigs'  mas- 
tership, has  written: 

"  The  religious  life  of  The  Hill,  if  I  am  not 
mistaken,  made  its  first  start  from  its  original 
formation  of  two  Sunday  attendances  at 
church,  when  in  my  first  year  the  Professor 
started  a  mid-weekly  prayer  meeting.  At- 
tendance was  voluntary  and  most  of  us  were 
shy  about  it.  It  was  not  until  two  years  after 
I  had  left  the  school  and  came  back  to  a  com- 
mencement and  stayed  over  for  a  day  or  two, 
that  I  ever  came  into  an  open  communion  of 
spirit  with  Professor  on  the  higher  things  of 
human  life — so  stubborn  was  the  boy's  pride, 
but  so  gentle  and  tender  of  the  boy's  rights 
was  the  strong,  humble  man. 

"  The  memory  that  comes  quickest  to  mind 
shows  the  Professor  sitting  on  the  small  plat- 
form in  the  old  schoolroom,  conducting  the 
evening  prayer  service.  The  light  of  the  oil 
lamp  which  he  used  to  carry  around  with  him 
at  such  imminent  peril,  fell  on  the  strong 
kind  face,  and  the  beloved  voice  was  the  only 
sound  to  be  heard  as  he  read  to  us,  most  often, 
from  Paul's  epistles, — exhortations  to  '  stand 
fast  in  the  faith;  be  strong:  to  forget  the 
things  which  are  behind  and  press  towards 
the  mark  for  the  prize  of  the  high  calling  of 
God,  which  is  in  Christ  Jesus  our  Lord:  to 
think  on  whatsoever  things  are  true,  lovely, 
beautiful,  of  good  report,  if  there  be  any 
virtue  and  if  there  be  any  praise.'  There  are 
some  of  these  phrases  which  to  this  day  I  can 

:  ' 


THE  MAKING  OF  MEN  241 

never  hear  without  instantly  bringing  up  a 
vivid  picture  of  the  scene  I  have  tried  to  de- 
scribe. He  never,  or  very  seldom  in  those 
days,  preached.  Perhaps  he  was  feeling  his 
way,  but  I  prefer  to  think  it  was  his  idea 
that  the  constant  holding  up  of  the  old  Apos- 
tle's manly  gospel  of  right  living  and  think- 
ing would  at  last  make  its  impression  even  on 
us  careless  youngsters.  At  any  rate,  he,  him- 
self, came  very  early  in  my  knowledge  of 
him  to  stand  in  my  mind  as  the  example  of 
the  Christian  runner  pressing  towards  the 
prize  of  the  high  calling,  of  the  man  who 
thought  '  on  these  things '  and  in  whose  mind 
was  no  room  for  any  base,  vulgar  or  impure 
thoughts." 

He  could  come  sometimes  into  very  close 
and  confident  relationship  with  boys  whom 
he  wanted  to  reach. 

One  writes: 

"In  the  Spring  of  1887  or  1888,  Professor 
invited  me  to  spend  the  night  with  him,  and 
after  a  jolly  half  hour  before  the  lights  were 
turned  out,  he  had,  easily,  naturally,  and  skill- 
fully, prepared  me  for  the  two-hour  heart-to- 
heart  talk  that  followed.  Stimulated  and  en- 
couraged by  his  apparent  interest  in  me,  and 
feeling  decidedly  proud  of  the  honor  of  being 
his  roommate,  he  soon  found  out  about  all  he 
desired  to  know,  namely:  plain,  simple,  un- 
embellished  statements  that  any  boy  would 
give  concerning  himself  and  others!  causes 
that  I  thought  produced  failures,  partial  sue- 


242      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

cess  and  progress,  my  natural  desires  for  the 
unattained;  ideas  of  future  occupations  to  be 
tried;  my  opinion  of  the  desirable,  and  annoy- 
ing characteristics  of  classmates,  teachers 
and  friends,  and  what  I  considered  were  their 
best  assets,  and  mine.  Finally: — How  and 
when  did  I  think  of  Christ,  and  talk  with 
Him?  Did  I  know  and  feel  that  He  wanted 
and  thought  of  me,  and  longed  to  aid  me? 
Did  I  feel  and  appreciate  a  growing  and 
healthy  confidence  in  my  efforts,  and  the 
efforts  of  others,  to  co-operate  with,  and  un- 
derstand God,  feel  His  influence,  and  under- 
stand His  simple  requests  and  wishes?  Then, 
Professor's  wonderful  personality,  and  power 
to  permanently  plant  in  the  boy  mind  and 
heart,  the  seed  of  his  experience,  during  years 
of  close  association  and  co-operation  with 
Christ,  and  the  study  of  the  Bible  most  im- 
pressively conveyed  his  thoughts  and  wishes, 
reasons  and  explanations,  to  a  prepared  and 
receptive  mind,  which  would  change  any  boy's 
viewpoint,  error  in  judgment,  and  mental 
picture  of  a  useful  and  valuable  Christian  life. 
His  analysis  of  the  boys  at  The  Hill,  always 
located  their  weakness!  His  advice  and  help 
nearly  always  corrected  mistakes  and  short- 
comings! never  distorted  any  one,  but  im- 
proved every  one. 

"All  who  knew  Professor  could  see  that 
he  expressed  in  life  what  he  so  beautifully 
expressed  in  words!  And  as  I  so  often  recall 
those  two  memorable  nights,  about  twenty- 
fiye  years  ago,  yet  remembered  as  of  yesterday,, 
I  seem  to  hear  him  add  to  that  which  I 


THE  MAKING  OF  MEN  243 

have  endeavored  to  quote: — 'A  pure  life  is 
usually  much  more  helpful  and  desirable  than 
a  brilliant  life.'  '  Our  character  is  our  will, 
doubt  and  fear  must  be  conquered  if  failure 
is  to  be  avoided/  '  Constantly  exercise  the 
habit  of  praying,  the  prayer  can  be  as  easily 
heard  when  offered  on  a  crowded  city  street, 
as  it  can  in  the  quietest  hour  and  place  one 
can  find/  '  Learn  to  think  of  Jesus  as  your 
devoted  brother,  teacher  and  friend,  then  you 
will  be  nearer  to  Him,  and  know  Him  better, 
when  you  think  of  Him,  and  see  Him  as  King 
of  kings." 

As  those  who  have  been  boys  at  The  Hill 
have  tried  to  sum  up  their  memories  of  John 
Meigs,  the  one  thing  which  most  often  and 
most  impressively  has  been  repeated  is  the 
memory  of  him  as  he  used  to  be  at  prayers, 
and  the  message  which, — all  unconsciously, 
perhaps, — stole  into  the  hearts  of  those  who 
used  to  hear  him  then. 

From  among  many  letters  have  been  drawn 
these  paragraphs: 

"  First  of  all,  I  don't  believe  anyone  could 
improve  on  that  quotation  from  Robert 
Browning,  as  descriptive  of  Professor's  fine, 
big,  powerful,  rugged  and  sympathetic  char- 
acter— '  One  who  never  turned  his  back 
.  .  .'  The  poem,  backed  by  Professor's  in- 
fluence, serves  as  an  inspiration,  as  it  always 
suggests  him  so  vividly:  I  love  to  think  of 
Professor  as  standing  up  before  us  on  Sunday 


244      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

evenings  after  singing,  and  praying  to  God 
for  all  of  us,  with  his  fine  judgment  in  pick- 
ing out  the  better  things  in  life  for  us,  his 
voice  touched  with  a  sympathetic  tremor  as 
he  touched  upon  the  future  lives  of  us  all,  for 
he  must  have  seen  how  cruel  the  world  can 
be  at  times,  and  the  end  of  the  prayer  in 
which  he  asked  the  Lord  to  '  be  with  all  the 
old  fellows  to-night  wherever  they  may  be.' 
I'll  never  forget  that,  never ! " 

"  One  thing  I  remember  especially  of  those 
prayers  in  the  schoolroom.  It  is  the  passage 
which  again  and  again  he  used  to  read, — 
the  passage  ending  with  the  8th  verse  of  the 
4th  chapter  of  the  Philippians.  I  can  shut  my 
eyes  and  see  and  hear  him  now  as  he  came  in 
his  reading  to  that  last  verse.  All  his  earnest- 
ness seemed  to  dwell  and  linger  on  that  word 
'  Finally/  as  though  he  would  sum  up  for  us 
in  what  followed  all  that  he  was  eager  for  us 
to  believe  and  do.  '  Finally ' — he  read, — 
'  Finally,  brethren,  whatsoever  things  are  true, 
whatsoever  things  are  honorable,  whatsoever 
things  are  just,  whatsoever  things  are  pure, 
whatsoever  things  are  lovely,  whatsoever 
things  are  of  good  report;  if  there  be  any 
virtue,  and  if  there  be  any  praise,  think  on 
these  things/  It  was  on  such  things  that  he 
thought,  and  I  think  that  even  the  most  care- 
less and  unworthy  of  us  knew  that  as  we  saw 
and  heard  him  then." 

But  above  all  did  the  memory  live  of  his 
prayers  each  night  for  the  old  boys. 


THE  MAKING  OF  MEN  245 

Thus  different  ones  have  written: 

"  I  always  associated  with  him  the  way  he 
always  ended  up  his  prayer  in  the  school- 
room in  the  evenings  with  '  And  bless  all  the 
old  boys  in  the  larger  life  beyond.'  Those 
few  words  showed  how  big  a  man  he  was, 
for  he  was  always  thinking  of  others  who 
moved  in  the  various  walks  of  life.  So  many 
schoolmasters  forget  that  there  is  any  kind 
of  a  world  beyond  their  own.  .  .  ." 

"  Many  nights  have  I  sat  in  a  big  chair  at 
home  recalling  his  strong  face  as  he  would  be 
saying,  'And  God  bless  the  boys  in  this 
school,  in  college,  and  the  larger  life  beyond/ 
and  I  knew  he  was  speaking  for  me  along 
with  the  other  fellows." 

"  Long  after  I  left  the  school  I  often  re- 
membered when  way  off  in  the  hills  that  every 
night  there  was  a  prayer  going  up  for  me 
along  with  all  the  other  old  Hill  boys,  and  it 
made  me  glad." 

In  the  statue  of  Phillips  Brooks  by  the  side 
of  Trinity  Church  in  Boston,  Saint  Gaudens 
has  tried  to  express  the  great  truth  of  the 
mightier  Presence  which  overshadowed  and 
inspired  the  mighty  preacher.  Behind  him, 
with  hand  stretched  out,  is  the  figure  of  the 
Christ. 

Just  back  of  the  platform  in  the  school- 
room at  The  Hill  where  John  Meigs  used  to 


246      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

pray  among  his  boys,  there  hung  a  picture 
which  to  more  than  one  thoughtful  spirit  must 
have  conveyed  the  same  suggestion  which 
Saint  Gaudens  has  put  into  his  bronze.  Be- 
hind John  Meigs,  too,  the  Master  stood.  It 
was  the  symbol  of  the  truth.  All  that  he  did 
in  the  school  he  did  as  the  servant  of  his 
remembered  Lord. 
To  one  of  the  boys  he  loved  he  wrote: 

"  I  trust  that  the  vacation  has  opened  to 
you  new  and  blessed  assurances  of  your  faith 
in  Christ  and  of  His  power  to  aid.  He  bids 
you  '  be  strong,  and  fear  not ! '  I  pray  for 
you  daily.  He  is  ever  with  you;  only  keep 
near  Him  and  you  are  safe  and  victorious." 

Back  to  The  Hill,  not  infrequently,  the  boys 
who  had  gone  out  from  the  school  would 
come  to  ask  advice  and  guidance  from  the 
man  they  trusted  and  loved. 

"  I  remember,"  says  one,  "  the  day  dear 
Professor  was  ill  in  bed,  and  still  saw  me. 
Being  naturally  hesitant  about  intruding  in 
his  sick  room,  I  was  struck  at  once  on  coming 
into  his  presence  by  a  feeling  of  being  put 
at  complete  ease,  because  I  could  see  by  his 
remarkable  expression  that  he  saw  my  dis- 
tress and  suffered  with  me;  then  it  was  very 
easy  to  tell  him  all,  and  through  my  narrative 
I  could  see  that  he  was  a  sympathetic  listener 


THE  MAKING  OF  MEN  247 

to  my  account.  And  then  his  big,  beautiful 
heart  opened  up  to  me  in,  first,,  an  atmosphere 
of  strength  and  power  which  he  always 
radiated,  and  then  the  advice  came, — the 
advice  from  one  in  perfect  accord  with  the 
Infinite,  with  all  its  sound  judgment,  its  re- 
assuring encouragement,  and  lastly  this, — 
more  powerful  than  all, — its  irresistible  ap- 
peal to  follow  the  Right,  to  be  at  peace  with 
God.  I  came  out  of  his  room  with  a  peace 
and  a  determination  that  have  never  left  me. 
I  love  to  remember  Professor's  last  words  to 
me,  the  last  time  I  saw  him,  as  I  left, — '  God 
bless  you,  John.'  It  typifies  in  such  a  lovely 
manner  his  whole  attitude  towards  life,  and 
I  cherish  the  words  as  being  his  final  fare- 
well to  me." 

And  very  bezutiful  is  the  story  from  an- 
other Hill  boy  who  came  back  to  a  commence- 
ment two  years  after  he  had  graduated,  and 
then  for  the  first  time  fully  learned  what  The 
Master  of  The  Hill  could  mean  to  the  spirit 
of  those  who  came  close  to  him: 


"  One  does  not  easily  speak  of  the  greatest 
moments  of  one's  life,  but  surely  one  may  be 
forgiven  for  laying  a  sincere  if  belated  tribute 
at  the  feet  of  a  holy  man  of  God.  The  years 
have  come  and  gone,  a  whole  generation  of 
men  has  passed,  but  I  have  that  great  moment 
to  look  back  at  when  I  stood  with  his  arm 


248      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

around  my  shoulder,  on  the  little  platform 
which  used  to  be  on  the  peak  of  the  roof  of 
the  old  building,  watching  the  sun  set  over 
the  far-away  hills;  and  by  some  miracle  I 
was  able  to  forget  myself  and  speak  the  things 
that  are  true  and  eternal  if  one  sees  them 
but  once  in  a  lifetime.  And  oh!  the  tender- 
ness and  the  kindness  of  the  dear  Professor. 
Many,  many  years  have  come  and  gone  since 
that  great  soul  for  a  moment  raised  the 
small,  timid  soul  of  the  boy  into  a  sense  of 
companionship.  It  would  be  grossly  out  of 
place  to  attempt  to  set  down  here  the  conse- 
quences. But  surely  it  may  be  accepted  as 
the  tribute  of  the  boy's  reverence  and  not  set 
down  to  the  egoism  of  the  boy,  grown  man, 
if  I  say  that  through  all  the  wanderings  of 
the  years  the  light  then  kindled  before  my 
boyish  eyes,  though  it  has  flickered,  has  never 
died;  though  it  has  been  obscured,  has  never 
misled  or  played  me  false;  though  it  has 
lighted  for  me  a  different  path  from  his,  yet 
it  may  shine  at  last  upon  the  same  goal. 

" '  Therefore  to  thee  it  was  given 
Many  to  save  with  thyself 
And  at  the  end  of  thy  day, 
Oh,  faithful  shepherd,  to  come, 
Bringing  thy  sheep  in  thy  hand.' " 


CHAPTER  VIII 

THE  LIFE  WITHIN 

John  Meigs;  Religious  Nature— Likeness  to  Luther-Emphasis 
on  Reality— His  Championship  of  Freedom  in  the  Briggs  Trial 
—Power  of  Personal  Sympathy— His  Spirit  as  Revealed  in  His 
Intimate  Letters— Death  of  Two  of  His  Daughters  and  of 
His  Mother— The  Ministry  of  Sorrow. 

IN  the  chapters  which  have  preceded,  we 
have  thought  of  John  Meigs  as  he  shaped 
and  molded  the  school.  The  time  has 
come  when,  in  an  even  more  intimate  and 
personal  way,  we  must  try  to  consider  how 
there  was  shaped  and  molded  meanwhile 
within  him  the  Spirit  which  was  his  deepest 
self.  Thus  to  seek  to  lift  the  veil  that  hangs 
before  the  all  but  incommunicable  mystery  of 
a  human  soul  is  a  task  which  only  reverent 
hands  may  touch;  and  even  then,  as  the  eyes 
of  the  would-be  understanding  look  into  that 
inmost  shrine,  they  shall  perceive  only  so 
much  as  they  have  been  made  wise  enough  to 
recognize  and  know.  Yet  from  this  attempt 
none  will  turn  away  who  wish  to  gather  the 
final  message  of  that  which  makes  this  book  a 
thing  that  should  be  written.  What  John 
Meigs  did  to  build  The  Hill  School  and  make 
it  strong  is  of  interest  to  all  those  who  have 
149 


250      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

come  into  contact  with  his  workmanship,  and 
to  those  others  too  who  realize  in  general  the 
significance  which  a  great  school  may  have 
in  the  nation's  life.  But  what  John  Meigs 
was  in  the  aspirations  and  struggles  of  his 
soul  draws  the  story  of  his  life  out  of  the 
circle  of  an  intellectual  meaning,  and  brings 
it  into  a  living  touch  with  that  hunger  of  all 
human  souls  for  fellowship  with  the  greater 
spirits,  who  on  that  arena  of  life's  realities 
where  each  must  play  his  part,  have  fought 
the  fight,  endured  their  wounds,  and  won 
their  victory  at  last. 

As  we  said  at  the  beginning,  John  Meigs' 
nature  was  made  up  of  vivid  elements.  In 
every  aspect,  and  very  obviously,  he  was  a 
man  of  strength, — strong  in  body,  in  mind,  in 
will.  He  had  the  instinctive  self-confidence 
of  power,  the  formidableness  of  great  energies 
driven  by  a  determination  which  was  unafraid. 
At  the  same  time,  he  was  intensely  loving. 
When  he  set  his  hand  to  his  work,  he  could 
do  it  with  an  unflinching,  and  if  necessary,  a 
lonely  disregard  of  opposition;  yet  he  de- 
pended for  his  happiness  upon  the  love  of 
those  he  loved.  His  own  volcanic  energies 
made  him  by  instinct  often  impatient,  and 
his  own  determination  often  stern;  he  was  to 
learn  the  secret  of  a  larger  patience  under 
the  dominance  of  a  yet  higher  and  diviner  love. 


THE  LIFE  WITHIN  251 

In  many  singularly  suggestive  ways,  John 
Meigs  was  like  one  of  the  great  figures  of  an 
earlier  time.  If  one  who  knew  Meigs  looks 
at  the  pictures  and  studies  the  character  of 
Martin  Luther,  he  will  be  struck  by  a  resem- 
blance which  grows  the  more  interesting  as 
it  is  pursued.  There  was  a  certain  physical 
similarity,  in  the  first  place,  between  John 
Meigs  and  the  likenesses  which  have  come 
down  to  us  of  the  great  preacher  and  prophet 
of  the  Reformation.  In  both  there  were  the 
heavy,  deep-chested  frame,  the  powerful  head 
with  its  broad  forehead  and  rugged  features, 
the  deep,  unflinching  eyes.  They  were  alike, 
too,  in  impetuous  emotion,  and  in  the  strength 
which  could  gather  itself  like  a  flaming  thun- 
derbolt against  wrong  no  longer  tolerable. 
They  were  alike  in  the  curious  blending  of 
self-confidence  and  humility,  of  a  power  in 
action  which  seemed  to  need  no  support,  and 
yet  a  hunger  of  the  heart  for  affection  which 
was  as  simple  and  ingenuous  as  a  child's. 
They  were  alike  in  human  daring,  and  most 
of  all  alike  in  their  knowledge  of  the  final 
truth  that  the  highest  human  strength  and 
courage  can  come  only  when  the  soul's  in- 
sufficiency is  linked  to  the  greatness  of 
God. 

John  Meigs'  conception  of  religion  was  filled 
with  a  throbbing  sense  of  its  relationship  to 


252      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

life.  The  intense  reality  of  his  own  spirit 
turned  with  an  aversion  sometimes  scornful, 
sometimes  sad,  from  the  empty  forms  of  an 
indifferent  or  merely  esthetic  worship;  yet 
he  was  sympathetic  with  every  manner  of 
worship,  whether  or  not  instinctively  con- 
genial, in  which  he  felt  the  soul  of  earnest- 
ness to  stir.  It  will  be  remembered  how  in 
his  letters  from  England  in  1887,  he  expressed 
his  profound  appreciation  of  Farrar's  preach- 
ing, and  in  the  next  breath  his  sense  of  the 
deadness  and  formality  of  the  service  he  at- 
tended at  Westminster  Abbey.  Other  letters 
of  his  written  at  different  times  show  his 
responsiveness  to  all  religious  appeals  which 
were  deep  and  true,  and  the  amusement  with 
which  he  regarded  the  prejudices  of  those 
who  could  see  nothing  good  in  any  form  of 
worship  save  their  own: 

"Jan.  22,  1882. 

"  Last  evening  I  was  invited  to  take  tea  at 
Mrs.  A's  and  found  a  very  pleasant  circle  of 
friends  assembled  there — all  of  whom  were 
much  my  seniors — save  the  Dominie  and  his 
wife.  However,  this  did  not  alter  the  meas- 
ure of  enjoyment  that  I  had.  There  were 
the  Episcopal  Rector  and  his  wife;  Mrs.  O, 
alleged  to  be  the  '  Mother  of  our  Church ' 
.  ,  . ;  the  D's  who  belonged  to  the  Unitarian 
Church  in  Brooklyn,  but  whose  interest  in 
our  Church  is  just  as  Christian  and  beautiful 


THE  LIFE  WITHIN  253 

as  one  could  wish  to  see.  Of  course,  we  did 
little  but  talk — although  I  sang  several  songs 
— and  I  haven't  had  so  thoroughly  diverting 
a  conversation  for  at  least  two  months  as 
we  managed  to  become  involved  in  last  night. 
Mrs.  O  did  get  exercised  over  my  occasional 
digs  about  her  shocking  orthodoxy,  and  in 
intense  earnestness  strove  to  warn  me  against 
letting  the  old  landmarks  go !  You  know  how 
utterly  devoid  of  any  approach  to  form  our 
service  is;  of  late  years  we  have  stood  during 
the  last  two  hymns,  and  since  Mr.  Stevenson's 
installation  we  sing  the  Doxology  at  the 
opening,  immediately  after  which  the  Pastor 
repeats  the  Lord's  Prayer.  Now  many  of  our 
people  have  wished  to  have  the  congregation 
participate  in  this  last  act;  Mrs.  O — naturally 
— rises  on  her  traditions  and  antediluvian 
associations — figuratively,  at  least,  mounts 
the  back  of  her  pew,  screams  fire  and  shakes 
her  umbrella  in  the  face  and  eyes  of  the 
ritualistic  party  who  wish  to  commit  the 
impiety  of  repeating  the  Lord's  Prayer  in 
unison.  I  was  amused  beyond  expression  to 
observe  her  oracular  deliverances  on  the 
*  fatal  step '  that  she  would  resist  to  the  day 
of  her  death.  .  .  .  Dear  me!  the  form  and 
method  of  the  service  are  so  immaterial  to 
me;  I  believe  I  could  stand  anything  from 
puritanism  to  episcopacy  as  florid  ...  as 
rites  could  make  it." 

"  Boston,  January  i,  1882. 
"  I  have  just  returned  from  a  most  solemn 
and    delightful    service    at    Trinity,    Phillips 


254      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

Brooks'  church,  .  .  .  lasting  from  n  o'clock 
until  the  beginning  of  the  New  Year.  . 
The  whole  church  was  filled,  and  I  shall  long 
remember  the  awful  silence  which  ensued 
after  Mr.  Brooks'  words  inviting  the  congre- 
gation to  spend  the  last  moments  of  the  old 
year  in  unvoiced  prayer  for  a  holier  power 
for  God's  service  in  the  incoming  year.  He 
beautifully  and  cogently  likened  the  New 
Year  to  the  New  Jerusalem,  the  chapter  de- 
scribing which  he  had  read  earlier  in  the  hour, 
and  the  dear  Father  knows  how  my  heart  and 
soul  poured  out  in  loving  prayer.  .  .  . 

"  I  escorted  Mrs.  F.  ...  to  hear  Phillips 
Brooks  this  afternoon  and  sat  near  enough 
to  catch  every  word  and  the  varying  shades 
of  expression.  It  was  a  sermon  I  hope  never 
to  forget,  based  on  our  Saviour's  characteriza- 
tion of  the  instructed  into  the  Kingdom  of 
Heaven — Matthew  xiii  :  52.  The  earnestness 
of  the  preacher's  noble  face  is  in  itself  an 
appeal  to  all  that  is  pure  and  inspiring  in  one, 
the  forceful  exposition  of  the  inspiration  that 
comes  from  devotion  to  God's  works  and 
ways.  An  unusual  and  impressive  feature  of 
the  service  was  the  singing  by  the  choir,  un- 
attended by  the  organ,  of  the  invocation  dur- 
ing the  brief  period  of  quiet  prayer  prior  to 
the  dispersion  of  the  congregation.  Never 
have  the  hidden  things  of  God  been  more  visi- 
ble and  real." 

Of  one  of  the  Wednesday  night  voluntary 
prayer  meetings  which  he  used  to  hold  with 
the  boys,  he  wrote, — in  1883: 


THE  LIFE  WITHIN  255 

"It  is  now  9:30,  and  I  have  just  finished 
reading  the  last  word  of  '  Nathan '  which  the 
boys  will  wrestle  with  to-morrow;  and  before 
I  go  to  bed  I  want  to  tell  you  how  earnest 
and  beautiful  a  meeting  we  had  to-night.  I 
conducted  the  services;  we  first  sang  two 
verses  of  '  Love  Divine/  and  then  N.  .  .  . 
led  us  in  prayer.  I  then  read  Paul's  passage 
on  eating  meat  offered  to  idols,  and  on  this 
both  Mr.  Roe  and  I  spoke,  I  believe,  im- 
pressively as  never  before.  God  grant  that 
it  be  so!  After  our  words,  prayers  were  vol- 
untarily made  by  many.  We  closed  with  one 
verse  of  'Just  As  I  Am.J  About  twenty-five 
were  present  and  there  were  some  very  earnest 
faces  among  them." 

From  other  letters  come  these  paragraphs: 

"  I  have  great  and  peculiar  need  of  being 
'  instant  in  prayer '  and  in  my  work  and  my 
responsibilities ;  unless  the  Lord  direct  all  will 
be  amiss.  Oh,  pray  with,  and  for  me,  that  I 
may  be  quickened  and  chastened  by  the  Lord's 
mighty  hand. 

"  H.  .  .  .  seems  most  happy,  as  well 
he  may,  for  *  his  joy  no  man  taketh  from 
him.'  It  is  inspiring  and  discouraging  to 
see  a  man  so  full  of  triumphant,  exultant 
peace. 

"What  riches  for  you  to  come  back  to! 
God  grant  that  the  good  work  he  is  do- 
ing may  be  established  in  the  hearts  and 
lives  of  each  one  of  these  boys  and  of  us 
all." 


256      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

"Dec.  27,  1885. 

"  It  is  ten  o'clock,  but  I  cannot  rest  before 
telling  you  of  the  wonderful  sermon  I  have 
heard  to-day  from  Phillips  Brooks.  This 
morning  he  preached  from  Acts  vii  :  59  and  it 
was  the  grandest  sermon  I  ever  heard.  The 
keynote  of  its  inspiring  tones  was  the  ulti- 
mate power  of  a  simple  living  Christianity. 
He  traced  Paul's  relation  to  what  he  wit- 
nessed at  Stephen's  death,  and  bade  every 
soul  that  doubted  its  aptitude  for  great  things 
for  Christ  to  be  only  willing  to  be  small  that 
Christ  might  be  great  in  it  or  through  it. 
His  appeal  to  the  young  men  of  Boston  to 
choose  Christ,  his  full  heart  and  blazing  eye 
as  he  told  of  Him  and  His  love  I  shall  never 
forget.  I  fairly  quivered  through  the  sermon 
and  felt  as  if  I  must  sob,  so  deeply  was  I 
stirred  by  this  wonderful  preacher  of  the 
wonderful  truth." 

"January  24,  1893. 

"  I  do  not  know  when  I  have  had  such  a 
shock  as  Phillips  Brooks'  death  caused  me. 
Almost  the  last  words  you  spoke  yesterday 
at  the  station  were — '  Now,  I  must  hear 
Phillips  Brooks ! '  It  is  a  mystery,  and  yet 
not  a  mystery  that  such  a  man  should  be 
taken.  His  life  surely  was  complete;  but  the 
incompleteness  of  so  many  lives  that  drew 
vitality  from  his  almost  causes  one  to  cry 
out  in  sorrow  at  his  removal.  How  glorious 
his  death  was — a  translation  in  very  truth!" 

Perhaps  the  most  interesting  single  event 
in  John  Meigs'  life  so  far  as  concerns  its  reve- 


THE  LIFE  WITHIN  257 

lation  of  his  religious  beliefs  and  essential 
loyalties,  was  his  connection  with  the  famous 
heresy  trial  of  Dr.  Charles  Augustus  Briggs. 
Dr.  Briggs,  then  a  professor  in  Union  Semi- 
nary, New  York,  was  assailed  by  the  conserv- 
ative party  in  the  Presbyterian  Church  be- 
cause of  certain  writings  of  his  which  espoused 
those  newer  ideas  as  to  the  Bible  which  the 
bolder  scholarship  of  the  time  was  making 
familiar.  The  beliefs  which  he  advanced  con- 
cerning the  authorship  and  the  manner  of 
composition  of  some  of  the  Old  Testament 
books,  particularly,  were  those  which  most 
thoughtful  men  in  the  churches  have  long 
since  recognized  to  be  true,  but  at  the  time 
when  Dr.  Briggs  advanced  them,  they  threw 
many  ecclesiastical  leaders  into  amazed  and 
indignant  consternation.  A  great  cry  went 
up  that  Dr.  Briggs  was  assailing  the  inspira- 
tion of  the  Scriptures.  The  attack  against 
him  was  waged  with  all  the  intensity  of 
which  a  conscientious  intellectual  reaction 
can  be  capable,  until  he  was  finally  arraigned 
for  trial  before  the  General  Assembly  of  the 
Presbyterian  Church.  Dr.  Briggs  himself  was 
a  man  of  that  aggressive  temper  which  does 
not  help  promote  the  peace,  but  he  stood  in 
this  instance  as  the  champion  of  a  cause  far 
greater  than  himself.  In  the  keeping  of  the 
side  which  he  represented  rested  the  fate  of 


25 8      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

that  liberty  of  investigation  which  believes 
that  the  reverent  study  of  the  Word  of  God 
must  be  hampered  by  no  prohibitions  of 
stereotyped  opinion,  and  that  the  study  which 
may  compel  the  recasting  of  long-accepted 
theories  about  this  and  that  aspect  of  the 
Bible,  if  it  has  been  based  on  a  true  and  honest 
method,  will  lead  not  to  uncertainty,  but  to 
larger  and  serener  faith.  On  the  other  hand, 
stood  many  men  who  sincerely  believed  that 
the  pronouncements  so  new  and  strange  to 
them  must  be  fraught  with  danger  to  the 
old  beliefs  they  knew  and  loved;  and  in  part 
their  attitude  reflected  unconsciously  the  tra- 
ditionalism which  in  so  many  ages  has  tried 
to  crush  with  its  brand  of  heresy  the  new 
aspect  of  truth  for  which  it  cannot  find  room 
in  the  pigeon-holes  of  those  ideas  which  it 
believes  to  be  orthodox  and  final.  Sincere 
men,  and  men  of  conviction,  there  were,  of 
course,  among  the  prosecutors  of  Briggs,  but 
the  sincerity  of  some  of  them  was  of  that 
same  grim  character  which  has  made  Inquis- 
itors under  many  garbs  and  in  many  genera- 
tions. Progress  and  the  fearlessness  of  a 
larger  faith  waited  upon  the  triumph  of  that 
tendency  which  Dr.  Briggs  for  a  moment 
represented;  and  though,  as  it  happened,  he 
was  formally  condemned,  the  cause  he  stood 


THE  LIFE  WITHIN  259 

for — as  often  happens,  too, — moved  on  to  its 
destined  victory. 

For  a  number  of  years,  John  Meigs'  essen- 
tial sympathies  and  his  activity  in  his  own 
church  had  prepared  him  to  be  one  of  those 
who  should  rally  to  the  banners  of  the  prin- 
ciples which  Dr.  Briggs  defended.  In  his 
boyhood,  he  attended  the  Pottstown  Presby- 
terian Church,  where  for  many  years  his 
mother  sang  in  the  choir.  When  he  came 
from  Lafayette  to  become  headmaster  in 
1876,  he  took  from  the  outset  a  prominent 
part  in  the  church's  work,  beginning  by  sing- 
ing in  the  choir.  Later  he  was  elected  a  trus- 
tee, and  on  December  8th,  1889,  he  notes: 

"  On  Wednesday  evening  after  prayer  meet- 
ing, the  heads  of  the  church  elect  at  least 
two  more  elders  and  I  have  been  requested 
to  allow  the  use  of  my  name.  I  shrink  from 
it  for  many  reasons,  beside  my  sense  of  un- 
fitness,  and  I  am  in  a  real  quandary  as  to 
what  to  do.  Pray  that  I  may  have  guidance 
and  grace  to  decide  wisely." 

For  a  number  of  years,  until  the  school 
grew  so  large  that  he  established  services  on 
The  Hill,  he  took  the  boys  to  the  Pottstown 
Church  twice  each  Sunday.  Because  of  that, 
he  felt  a  special  responsibility  to  make  the 
spirit  and  teachings  of  the  Church  such  as 
would  appeal  to  straightforward  and  inquiring 


260      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

minds.  When,  soon  after  he  came  to  The 
Hill,  the  pulpit  became  vacant,  he  used  his 
earnest  influence  to  find  and  call  a  minister 
who  should  represent  what  was  fearless  and 
forward-looking,  as  well  as  what  was  rev- 
erent, in  Christian  thought.  Such  a  man,  in 
the  Reverend  Henry  M.  Dyckman,  he  found, 
and  he  stood  back  of  all  his  work  to  the 
utmost  of  his  power. 

In  1893  he  was  elected  a  member  of  the 
General  Assembly,  before  which  the  Briggs 
case  was  to  come.  Dr.  Charles  Cuthbert  Hall, 
of  Brooklyn  (afterwards  president  of  Union 
Seminary),  wrote  him  this  letter,  in  which  the 
real  satisfaction  shines  through  its  affectionate 
raillery: 

"  No.  128  Henry  St., 

Brooklyn, 
"Dear  Friend:  ! 7  May,  1893. 

"  I  rejoice  that  your  Presbytery,  in  an  evil 
hour,  fell  under  the  temptation  of  the  adver- 
sary, and  sent  you  to  the  Assembly.  May 
you  do  much  harm! 

"  I  send  this  line  to  Brown,  who  will  give 
you  a  hearty  greeting,  and  will  introduce  you 
to  Dr.  Briggs  if  you  do  not  already  know  him. 

"  May  the  blessing  of  the  sons  of  Belial  rest 
upon  you  and  upon  your  children  to  the  third 
and  fourth  generation! 

"  Yours  for  preterition, 
*'  Elder  Meigs  C  C.  H." 

from  Pennsylvania ! " 


THE  LIFE  WITHIN  261 

Then  from  Washington,  where  the  Assem- 
bly met,  his  letters  to  his  wife  take  up  the 
graphic  story  of  the  trial.  Very  positive  and 
partisan  in  their  expressions  they  will  be  seen 
to  be,  and  full  of  the  intensity  which  was 
characteristic  of  all  his  convictions.  Some 
might  even  question  the  wisdom  of  publishing 
that  which  is  so  vividly  reminiscent  of  old 
controversy;  yet  those  who  knew  John  Meigs 
will  not  forget  that  underneath  his  outspoken 
and  militant  opinions  dwelt  that  deep  and 
humble  Christian  sympathy  which  always 
made  him  recognize  his  ultimate  fellowship 
with  all  who  were  seeking  to  serve  with 
their  best  light  the  Church  and  the  Church's 
Lord. 


"  Washington,  May  20,  1893. 
"  To  my  surprise  and  almost  pain  when  the 
Moderator  announced  the  committees  yester- 
day morning,  I  found  myself  on  the  Judicial 
Committee  next  to  three  distinguished  law- 
yers ;  the  second  committee  in  importance  gen- 
erally,— the  first  this  year  because  before  it 
conies,  or  has  come,  the  first  consideration  of 
the  Briggs  case.  Nothing  could  have  been 
more  unexpected  except  my  original  election 
to  the  Assembly,  and  without  personal  ac- 
quaintance to  bring  me  under  the  eye  or 
mind  of  the  Moderator  I  am  designated 
for  this  supreme  committee,  in  this  fateful 
year  of  our  Church.  May  the  Christ  of 


262      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

peace  and  love  fill  my  soul  with  His  spirit 
aright  to  serve  Him  who  gave  Himself  for 
me! 

"  We  had  our  first  meeting  last  night  and 
heard  the  appeal  in  full  from  the  New  York 
Presbytery  prosecuting  committee,  who  were 
defeated  in  the  Presbytery  in  January,  as  you 
may  recall.  Never  was  there  a  worse  cause 
worse  presented  than  the  anti-Briggs  present- 
ment by  this  prosecuting  committee.  No  ac- 
tion was  taken  last  night  beyond  filing  the 
appeal  in  order,  pro  forma.  This  morning  we 
meet  to  consider  what  recommendations  we 
shall  make  to  the  General  Assembly.  Here 
will  come  the  agony,  for,  of  course,  the  ma- 
jority of  our  committee  is  anti-Briggs,  or 
anti-liberal  as  I  prefer  to  put  it.  There  will 
undoubtedly  be  a  majority  for  a  strong  reso- 
lution unfavorable  to  freedom;  there  will  un- 
doubtedly be  a  strong  (in  quality  and  spirit, 
I  hope)  minority  report,  appealing  either  for 
regularity  of  procedure,  a  hearing  by  the  New 
York  Synod  which  has  been  .  .  .  ignored 
by  the  appellants,  or  for  a  dismissal  of  the 
appeal,  the  ending  of  the  contention  and 
acrimony  of  the  whole  case  and  the  advocacy 
of  peace  and  work.  This  last,  the  dismissal 
of  the  appeal,  would  best  suit  my  views,  but 
I  fear  it  is  impracticable.  There  seems  to 
be  a  fair  fighting  chance  for  the  return  to 
the  New  York  Synod.  I  shall  work  and  vote 
in  concert  with  the  lovers  of  liberty  and 
peace,  and  suffer  in  the  passing  regard  of 
the  large  majority  who  seem  ready  for  any 
intolerant  and  crushing  issuance  of  this  ever- 


THE  LIFE  WITHIN  263 

recurring  question  of  the  liberty  wherewith 
Christ  hath  made  us  free. 

"  I  am  seeing  numerous  old  college  ac- 
quaintances and  find  the  gathering  on  this 
side  most  interesting. 

"  Mrs.  M.  .  .  .  has  turned  up  and  seems 
very  glad  to  see  me,  though  (dear  soul!)  after 
the  Judicial  Committee  makes  its  report,  she 
will  probably  want  to  cross  the  street  'to 
escape  me! 

"  I  have  just  come  in  from  a  long  confer- 
ence with  the  Liberals  and  am  actively  en- 
gaged in  trying  to  bring  our  committee  mi- 
nority of  six,  to  common  ground  to-morrow 
morning  when  the  majority  will  propose 
resolutions  that  pre-judge  the  great  case  and 
prejudice  the  defendant's  interest.  .  .  . 
Briggs'  opponents  are  so  fierce  that  they  will 
not  consent  to  the  regular  order,  but  wish 
to  depose  him  in  a  summary  and  premature 
way.  You  can  imagine  how  intense  the  feel- 
ing is.  The  pressure  on  the  Judicial  Com- 
mittee is,  and  will  be,  frightful  until  we  re- 
port to  the  Assembly.  I  am  unutterably 
sorry  and  yet  glad  that  I  am  in  this  place  of 
peculiar  responsibility  and  gravity.  God  help 
me  to  speak  and  act  in  His  spirit  of  liberty 
and  love.  How  true  that  tolerance  of  the  in- 
tolerant is  the  hardest  kind  of  tolerance  to 
attain!  Pray  for  my  guidance  and  my  help! 

"  I  am  brought  into  close  relations  with  the 
rarest  spirits  of  this  great  gathering,  and  this 
is  a  privilege  dear  to  my  soul.  Social  pleas- 
ures are  a  thing  of  the  past  or  future.  I  have 
no  soul  for  them  now,  and  yet  I  feel  the  in- 


264      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

adequacy   of  my   powers — impaired   as   they 
certainly  have  been  by  my  illness. 

"  I  ran  up  home  for  a  night,  and  rinding 
things  running  smoothly  returned  this  P.  M. 
in  order  to  be  here  in  time  for  our  early 
morning  committee  meeting." 

On  the  back  of  the  letter  from  Dr.  Hall  is 
written  in  pencil  this  memorandum :  "  Minor- 
ity of  Judicial  Committee  called  to  order  by 
election  of  Dr.  Nicholls  as  Chairman,  J.  Meigs 
as  Secretary.  By  vote  of  meeting  Dr.  Nich- 
olls was  requested  to  draw  up  report  setting 
forth  the  opinion  of  the  minority." 

Then  the  letters  continue: 

"  May  22,  '93. 

"  Our  Judicial  Committee  will  divide  in 
reporting  the  result  of  their  conference.  Fif- 
teen will  support  the  majority,  and  six  of  us 
the  minority  report;  the  latter  is  the  specific 
and  constitutional  recommendation,  the  for- 
mer is  summary  and  intolerant.  I  am  re- 
lieved unutterably  to  have  the  committee 
stage  of  the  question  ended;  for,  for  the  first 
time  I  can  begin  to  breathe  freely  and  prepare 
my  spirit  for  the  strain  of  the  next  few  days 
of  trial. 

"To-morrow  the  committee's  reports  will 
be  heard  and  then  the  battle  will  be  on.  Of 
course,  the  Briggs  side  is  very  much  the 
weaker  numerically,  but  the  quality  is  good 
enough  for  me.  To-night  the  Briggs  group 


THE  LIFE  WITHIN  265 

have  a  conference  at  our  hotel,  and  I  am  to 
be  with  them  in  this  supreme  and  final 
council." 

"  May  24. 

"At  last  the  main  work  of  our  committee 
is  done  and  the  majority  and  minority  reports 
have  brought  the  great  judicial  case  before  the 
Assembly.  Yesterday  afternoon  the  reports 
were  brought  in  and  read  to  the  General  As- 
sembly amid  silence.  The  majority  has  gone 
outside  of  the  constitution  in  their  eagerness 
to  punish  Dr.  Briggs,  and  our  minority  report 
was  adopted,  not  formally  or  openly,  but,  in- 
ferentially  by  the  course  that  the  Moderator, 
under  counsel,  laid  out  for  the  case.  The  read- 
ing of  the  appeal,  a  clerical  exercise  that  tried 
the  patience  of  a  gathering  boiling  with  agi- 
tation, aside  from  the  smothering  heat  of  the 
church,  was  the  only  step  taken  after  the  re- 
port was  heard.  This  afternoon  at  half-past 
two,  the  case  comes  on  with  precedence  over 
all  the  other  business  until  it  is  out  of  the  way. 
The  sentiment  is  divided  as  to  the  hearing  of 
the  case  by  the  Assembly  and  reference  to 
the  Synod.  The  latter  I  prefer,  as  do  the 
liberals,  generally,  and  some  of  the  moderate 
conservatives. 

"  I  have  been  appointed  by  the  liberals  one 
of  a  '  steering  committee  '  of  seven  to  arrange 
and  apportion  the  work  on  the  floor  of  the 
Assembly  or  elsewhere,  so  that  my  hands  are 
full  and  my  head  and  heart  as  well.  I  can 
scarcely  believe  that  I  am  myself;  I  may  feel 
this  the  more  after  the  trial  when  the  liberals 


266      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

are  put  under  the  ban,  if  this  be,  as  it  is  likely 
to  be,  the  natural  course  of  events. 

"  Last  evening  I  accepted  an  invitation  to 
dine  at  the  H.  .  .  .'s,  and  had  a  lovely, 
quiet,  domestic  evening — a  sharp  contrast  to 
my  other  evenings  here,  and  it  brought  me 
to  bedtime  in  a  serene  spirit." 

"  May  25,  1893. 

"  You  can  hardly  realize  the  tension  I  have 
been,  and  am,  under.  All  of  one's  thoughts 
and  energies  are  enlisted  in  this  great  ques- 
tion and  I  am  daily  surprised  to  find  one  and 
another  of  the  consecrated,  influential  per- 
sonalities, men  and  women,  eagerly,  prayer- 
fully, hoping  for  liberty's  triumph.  It  may 
be  delayed,  but  it  is  as  sure  as  God,  despite 
the  temporary  obstacles  that  oppose  it.  Dr. 
Briggs  spoke  an  hour  and  a  half  yesterday 
P.  M.  and  will  have  three  and  one-half  more 
hours  allowed  him  on  the  propriety  of  the 
prosecuting  committee's  appeal.  Then  the 
latter  will  reply,  and  then  comes  the  first  great 
struggle  on  the  floor  of  the  Assembly.  The 
conservatives,  by  whom  I  mean  the  great 
body  of  Dr.  Briggs'  opponents,  are  disposed, 
not  to  say  determined,  not  to  allow  free  dis- 
cussion and  debate;  they  would  actually  like 
to  settle  the  question  over  night.  This  Judi- 
cial Committee  experience  has  been  a  despir- 
itualizing  ordeal  for  me.  The  combination 
of  prayers  for  peace,  for  the  spirit  that  is 
'first  pure,  peaceable,  gentle,  easy  to  be  en- 
treated, full  of  mercy  and  good  fruits,  without 
variance,  without  hypocrisy,'  and  the  deliber- 


THE  LIFE  WITHIN  267 

ate  utterance  of  a  purpose  to  wage  war, 
bitter,  relentless  and  to  the  knife,  is  enough 
to  sicken  one's  soul. 

"  As  the  General  Assembly  has  now  entered 
on  the  Briggs  case,  all  else  is  suspended  and 
we  must  sit  steadily  without  leave  of  absence 
for  an  hour  even,  until  the  whole  issuance 
is  made.  God  help  us  to  show  His  spirit  in 
these  trying  days." 

"  May  26. 

"  I  have  just  come  in  from  a  long,  tense 
agony  in  the  Assembly,  incident  to  the  dis- 
cussion of  the  question  as  to  whether  we  shall 
try  Dr.  Briggs  or  send  the  case  down  to  the 
Synod,  the  intermediate  court.  God  help 
them  and  his  Christ-bought  Church!  In  an 
hour  and  a  half  after  the  discussion  begins 
we  take  the  first  great  vote  and  this  virtually 
decides  the  case.  Oh,  that  in  this  our  hearts 
and  consciences  could  be  illuminated  by 
Christ's  own  spirit  of  love  and  peace!  But 
I  fear  the  motives  are  not  all  God-given. 
However  it  goes,  and  it  seems  now  as  if  it 
could  go  only  one  way,  we  who  profess  the 
liberal  spirit  must  show  the  spirit  of  Him 
who,  when  He  was  reviled,  reviled  not  again." 

On  this  same  day  he  wrote  to  a  friend: 

"  Here  I  am,  and  have  been  for  more  than 
a  week,  sitting  as  Commissioner  in  the  Gen- 
eral Assembly  ...  at  this  great  crisis.  I 
have  had  frightful  work  to  do  and  warfare 
to  wage  in  the  Judicial  Committee.  ...  Six 
out  of  twenty-one  finally  refused  to  bow  the 


268      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

knee  to  Baal  and  brought  in  our  minor- 
ity report  which  blazes  the  way  to  liberty 
and  righteousness.  The  atmospheric  pressure 
against  us  has  been  terrific,  but  our  strength 
has  increased  daily.  And  though  we  go  to 
certain  defeat  to-day  we  are  in  the  path  of 
ultimate  victory. 

"  I  have  come  into  the  closest  relation  with 
Dr.  Briggs  and  his  intimate  friends,  and  best 
of  all,  with  a  noble  group  of  men  who  are 
here  in  the  interest  of  no  personality  but  that 
of  our  Lord  and  His  Christ." 

"  May  28. 

"  We  are  nearly  all  hoping  that  Dr.  Briggs 
will  continue  his  case  to  the  end,  though  last 
night  one  of  the  Union  Seminary  directors 
told  me  he  thought  there  would  be  no  use  in 
it.  They  are  rampant,  he  says,  to  slaughter 
him  and  will  have  no  regard  for  what  he  says 
on  the  merits  of  the  case  which  now  formally 
comes  up  for  trial.  I  don't  wonder  at  Dr. 
Briggs'  own  disinclination  to  make  a  plea 
before  so  hostile  and  inflexible  a  body  of  so- 
called  judges.  And  yet  for  the  sake  of  the 
principles  embodied  in  his  position,  I  hope  he 
will  have  the  Assembly  go  on  record  on  this 
question." 

"  May  29. 

"  Dr.  Briggs,  following  the  prosecuting 
committee,  has  begun  his  defense  this  after- 
noon. This  argument  covers  the  question  of 
his  heresy,  and  is,  of  course,  the  vital  one. 
There  is  no  disposition  among  the  majority 


THE  LIFE  WITHIN  269 

to  listen  to  argument,  however.  ...  I 
realize  that  Dr.  Briggs  is  not  the  ideal  de- 
fender of  the  faith,  so  far  as  that  gentleness 
and  winsomeness  that  were  in  Christ  are 
concerned,  but  he  has  been  so  hounded  by 
these  malignant  enemies  who  misrepresent 
him,  in  season  and  out  of  season,  that  I  am 
not  surprised,  though  I  am  disappointed 
somewhat  by  his  strong  utterances.  It  has 
been  his  personality  rather  than  his  view 
throughput  that  has  aroused  the  relentless 
antagonisms  that  now  are  fast  ripening  for 
his  downthrow.  However,  if  your  own  cate- 
gorical asservations  before  God  should  be 
hooted  or  sneered  at  by  unfriendly  judges, 
you  would  find  it  hard  to  preserve  a  mild  and 
serene  behavior,  and  I  sometimes  wonder,  not 
at  his  vehemence  so  much,  as  at  his  restraint." 

"May  30. 

"  The  great  case  has  been  presented  by  the 
parties;  at  7:45  to-night  the  members  of  the 
New  York  Presbytery  will  be  heard.  To- 
morrow at  9:30  members  of  the  Assembly 
will  begin  to  be  heard  for  two  hours;  at  n  130 
the  first  of  thirty-one  votes  will  be  taken  on 
sustaining  the  appeal  of  the  prosecuting  com- 
mittee; aye,  means  Briggs'  condemnation;  no, 
his  justification.  It  is  needless  to  say  he 
will  be  condemned,  despite  his  utterances  of 
argument  and  belief.  The  majority  have  one 
chance  to  rescue  themselves  from  their  me- 
dieval posture,  and  this  is  the  mitigation  of 
the  sentence.  If  they  are  as  intolerant  in  this 
as  they  have  been  in  the  other  proceedings, 


27o      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

God  help  the  Church.  I  cannot  believe  that 
they  will  rush  madly  to  extremes  in  this 
matter. 

"To  convict  Briggs  the  Assembly  ought 
to  alter  the  indictment  from  heresy  to  lying, 
if  they  are  really  anxious  to  be  consistent.  It 
looks  now  as  if  we  should  get  away  to-mor- 
row, Wednesday  night.  I  sincerely  hope  so, 
for  my  absence  at  this  time  is  a  great  strain 
for  me,  and  yet  I  shall  ever  bless  God  that 
I  came  at  this  critical  juncture  of  the  Church." 

"June  ist. 

" '  The  court '  has  been  in  a  most  contin- 
uous and  tense  session  for  the  past  two  days. 
I  begin  to  feel  ready  for  a  rest-cure  of  any 
description,  and  shall  doubtless  find  in  my 
diverse  occupations  at  home  a  real  solace  from 
these  novel  and  distressing  responsibilities 
that  have  rested  on  me. 

"  The  verdict,  as  you  have  anticipated,  is 
suspension  from  the  ministry  and  Dr.  Briggs 
is  no  longer  a  Presbyterian  clergyman.  This 
will  not  necessarily  affect  his  relation  to 
Union  Theological  Seminary,  and  he  will 
doubtless  continue  to  teach  as  long  as  he 
lives.  The  majority  has  assumed  a  great  re- 
sponsibility and  will  have  the  future,  if  not 
the  present,  thought  of  the  Church  of  Christ 
against  it." 

The  immediate  issues  which  gave  these 
letters  their  intensity  and  fire  pass  away,  but 
from  them  there  comes  an  abiding  impression 


THE  LIFE  WITHIN  271 

of  the  men  who  wrote  them — a  sense  of  the 
earnestness  of  his  religious  loyalties,  as  well 
as  of  the  force  of  his  championship  for  free- 
dom. 

But  a  still  deeper  development  in  his  re- 
ligious consciousness  than  these  letters  alone 
can  show  had  been  going  on  for  a  decade  in 
his  spirit. 

When  he  first  began  his  work  at  The  Hill 
his  religion  consisted  essentially  of  a  sturdy 
devotion  to  right  and  duty,  under  the  sanc- 
tion of  the  thought  of  God.  As  a  Christian, 
too,  he  looked  to  Jesus  Christ  as  the  incarna- 
tion of  those  ideals  which  he  himself  wished 
to  try  to  follow,  and  gave  himself  with  ear- 
nest heart  to  His  service.  But  in  his  own 
thought  there  was  still  something  greatly 
lacking.  He  became  the  more  conscious  of 
this  after  his  marriage  and  his  association 
with  the  radiant  spirit  of  his  wife.  He  said 
once  sadly  that  though  he  was  trying  as  well 
as  he  could  to  follow  the  Master,  he  did  not 
have  the  feeling — as  he  knew  some  had — 
that  God  in  Christ  was  a  real  and  living  Pres- 
ence to  whom  he  could  turn  in  conscious  and 
immediate  communion. 

None  can  describe  the  way  in  which  this 
sense  of  the  living  God  comes  to  the  human 
hearts  that  know  it.  Still  it  lies  beyond  the 
reach  of  words,  wrapped  in  that  "mystery 


272       THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

which  hath  been  hid  from  ages  and  from 
generations  .  .  .,  which  is  Christ  in  you,  the 
hope  of  glory."  But  through  the  doors  of 
manifold  experiences,  sometimes  from  the 
sunlight  and  sometimes  from  the  shadow,  it 
does  come — self-revealing,  sufficient.  And  to 
John  Meigs  too,  it  was  to  come,  out  of  the 
door  of  love  and  over  the  threshold  of  sorrow. 

If  we  should  know  his  spirit  fully,  it  would 
be  necessary  to  know  all  that  came  to  him  of 
inspiration,  of  spiritual  recognition,  made 
more  exquisite  and  tender  through  his  mar- 
riage. But  the  story  of  that  cannot  be  told. 

Yet  we  can  trace  the  influence  upon  him 
of  some  of  the  rich  friendships  which  he  ac- 
knowledged with  the  unrestrained  outpour- 
ing of  his  lavish  affection.  The  Drown  family 
and  the  family  of  Dr.  Rossiter  W.  Raymond, 
both  of  whom  he  met  first  when  he  was  at 
Lafayette,  meant  pre-eminently  much  to  him. 

In  1881  he  writes,  referring  to  the  Drowns : 

"  T.  .  .  .  says  he  has  a  whole  week's  talk 
laid  out  and  I  am  essential  to  the  entire  ar- 
rangement, so  I  shall  go  directly  to  Easton  on 
Thursday,  after  the  boys  leave  and  stay  until 
Monday  after  Christmas,  deferring  the  rest 
of  that  ominous  conversation  for  a  month 
or  two.  I  shall  be  glad  to  get  into  the  house- 
hold that  has  been  so  faithful  and  unswerv- 
ing in  their  devotion  for  so  many  years.  I 


THE  LIFE  WITHIN  273 

want  just  such  friends  now  and  thank  God 
fervently  that  their  love  is  such  as  to  induce 
them  to  desire  my  presence.  It's  all  a  great 
mystery  to  me,  but  life  is  so  permeated  with 
marvels  that  I  simply  feel  thankful  and  try 
to  be  worthy  of  such  love  and  leave  the  rest 
with  God." 

Again  he  writes  of  a  visit  to  the  same 
family  : 

"  Jan.  30,  1882. 

"  I  never  felt  so  grateful  to  God  for  His 
gracious  favor  in  allowing  me  during  the  past 
six  years  to  give  the  very  best  of  which  I 
have  been  capable  to  the  hearts  and  lives  of 
these  loved  ones,  whose  blessing  has  been  the 
sweetest  compensation  God  could  render  for 
my  faltering  service.  ..." 

Best  of  all  is  the  correspondence  through 
many  years  with  Mrs.  Rossiter  W.  Raymond, 
for  whom  John  Meigs  felt  an  altogether  pe- 
culiar love,  and  whom  he  used  to  call  "  Aunt 
Sally."  From  among  many  letters  these  para- 
graphs are  taken. 

John  Meigs  to  Mrs.  Raymond,  written  from 
on  shipboard  as  he  returned  from  Europe  in 
1887: 

"My  beloved  Aunt  Sally: 

"  Here  I  am  only  eighteen  hours — thank 
God — from  New  York! 


274      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

"  The  days  immediately  following  the  close 
of  school  were  thronged  to  the  degree  of  dis- 
traction with  innumerable  cares  from  which 
the  intervening  weeks  have  hardly  released 
me.  .  .  ."  \Then,  after  recounting  the  ex- 
periences of  the  journey,  he  goes  on:]  "If  I 
am  to  be  really  a  '  changed  man '  that  change 
will  have  to  be  worked  out  in  the  bosom  of 
my  family  or  amid  my  dearest  friends;  Eu- 
rope, Asia  and  Africa  are  as  dust  in  the 
balance  alongside  of  '  Durham  Woods '  or 
"The  Hill/  ...  My  heart  is  full  and  run- 
ning over  with  joy  as  the  staunch  ship  meas- 
ures her  sixteen  knots  an  hour,  and  one,  dear- 
est Aunty,  of  the  most  precious  hopes  I 
cherish  is  that  of  seeing  you  and  the  dear 
ones  with  you  ere  long. 

"  Ever  faithfully  yours, 

"John  Meigs." 

From  John  Meigs  to  Mrs.  Raymond,  two 
weeks  later: 

"My  beloved  Aunt  Sally: 

"  Your  letter  of  the  i6th  has  just  reached 
me. 

"  I  am  covered  with  shame,  as  with  a  gar- 
ment, to  think  that  so  gracious  and  dearly- 
prized  a  gift  as  E.  .  .  .'s  beautiful  picture 
should  be  so  long  unacknowledged. 

"  There  is  no  sufficient  apology  for  this ; 
but  my  head  has  been  swimming,  day  and 
night,  because  of  the  unpardonable  neglect 
of  mechanics  who  had  promised  to  complete 
necessary  changes  early  in  July,  and  yet  left 


THE  LIFE  WITHIN  275 

the  commencement  of  these  until  within  a 
day  or  two  of  my  return. 

"  I  have  simply  had  to  drive  them,  day  and 
evening,  trying,  almost  vainly,  to  make  ready 
for  the  boys  who  are  coming  down  upon  us 
in  royal  style  and  spirit  on  the  too-near  2/th 
and  28th. 

"  The  almost  dizzying  distraction  involved 
has  left  me  hardly  time  to  sit  down;  tele- 
grams by  telephone  have  been  my  principal 
form  of  communication,  and  I  am  still  more 
inexcusable  because  I  haven't  adopted  this 
method  in  more  cases. 

"  You  will  forgive  me,  my  dearest  of 
Aunties,  and  know  that  I  appreciate  more 
than  I  can  tell  you  the  lovely  picture  .  .  . 
and  the  blessed  letters  that  you  and  A.  ... 
wrote  me  on  the  3ist  [his  birthday']. 

"To  have  received  such  a  letter  as  yours 
was  to  have  an  added  inspiration  for  every 
hour  of  life,  .  .  .  fraught  with  associations 
of  the  holiest  and  most  joyous  ties  that  have 
fixed  my  life  here  and  hereafter. 

"  I  need  not,  indeed  I  cannot,  tell  you  all 
that  I  ever  have  from  you  and  your  beloved 
circle.  Whatever  of  faint  suggestion  of  use- 
fulness or  fruitfulness  I  aspire  to  or  may 
feebly  attain  I  refer  gratefully  and  constantly, 
before  God,  to  you.  Oh,  dear  Aunt  Sally,  but 
for  the  uplifting  hand  of  God  your  head  even 
now  would  bow  with  the  very  burden  of  the 
crowns  which  the  souls  of  those  you  have 
drawn  to  Him  would  lay  lightly  and  rever- 
ently upon  that  dear  brow,  that  I,  and  my 
beloved  Marion,  long  again  to  see!  You  are 


276       THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

ever  in  our  thoughts;  you  are,  more  largely 
than   you   believe,   the    thought    in   us,    with 
Christ  over  and  in  and  above  all.   .    .    . 
"  Ever  faithfully, 

"John." 

To  John  Meigs  from  Mrs.  Raymond,  writ- 
ten in  IQOJ,  while  Mrs.  Raymond  was  on  a 
visit  at  The  Hill,  and  he  was  away: 

"  April  25,  1907. 
"  Dearest  of  all  Johns : 

"  Here  I  am  yet,  though  I  purpose  to  be 
well  enough  to  start  with  dear  E.  .  .  .  to- 
morrow for  Brooklyn."  [Then  after  telling 
many  details  about  the  household  at  The  Hill, 
and  of  her  fellowship  with  Mrs.  Meigs,  she 
continues:] 

"  I  do  love  her,  John,  and  I  always  did, 
from  the  first  hour  of  our  acquaintance,  and 
now  more  than  ever.  And  I  need  not,  though 
I  will,  tell  you  again  how  I  can  say  the  same, 
most  sincerely,  of  you;  and  this  increasing, 
intensifying  interest  and  affection  is  to  me 
the  most  wonderful  and  satisfying  proof  of 
immortality.  With  all  we  read,  and  talk 
about  in  regard  to  the  other  life,  this  lovely, 
happy,  deepening  and  heightening  and  en- 
larging love  for  our  friends  is  the  one  factor 
of  assurance  I  need,  from  the  earthly  stand- 
point. It  is  to  me  the  complement  to  the 
Saviour's  declaration,  '  Because  I  live,  ye  shall 
live  also.' 

"  Aren't  you  glad  that  we  first  met  so  long 


THE  LIFE  WITHIN  277 

ago?  For  not  only  we,  but  so  many  of  the 
beloved  in  both  circles  have  been  drawn  into 
the  same  blessed  circumference  that  we  are 
unusually  blest  in  the  contemplation  of  re- 
union! .  .  . 

"  I  send  you  my  dearest  old-timey-est  love; 
and  when  you  give  of  the  same  commodity 
[without  the  adjective!]  to  J.  .  .  .,  to 
M.  .  .  .  and  to  little  S.  .  .  .,  don't  dole 
it  out,  but  give  largesse. 

"  Your  affectionate, 

"Aunt  Sally." 

From  Mrs.  Raymond  to  John  Meigs  in 
IQ08. 

"  How  many  years  is  it,  dear  John  (dear- 
est of  Johns,  in  fact!)  since  you  first  came  to 
Durham  Wood  to  spend  your  birthday  .  .  .  ? 
I  cannot  think  back  and  get  dates  to  my  satis- 
faction; but  ah!  I  can  get  all  my  old  fond 
associations  back  in  a  moment,  when  I  put 
my  mind  to  work  on  my  memory! 

"And  as  far  as  my  loving  heart  can  go,  it 
might  be  only  a  very  few  years,  and  it  might 
be  ages.  For  always  long  ago,  and  always 
in  eternity,  those  beautifully  happy  days  will 
be  radiant;  and  as  permanent  in  memory  as 
fixed  stars  are  in  the  heavens.  How  little 
we  thought  in  those  jolly  times  that  we  were 
heaping  up  treasures  which  should  become 
holy!  But  so  it  is — with  me  at  any  rate;  and 
so  it  is  with  you  too,  I  doubt  not,  faithful 
friend!" 


278      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 
And  again  in  1910: 

"  August  30. 

"  And  how  many  times  have  I  written  that 
date,  dear  John,  and  how  many  times  did 
you  spend  your  birthday  with  us,  needing  no 
letter? 

"  Ah,  how  kind  God  has  been  to  us,  to  fill 
our  lives  with  memories;  some  merry,  and 
some  sad,  but  all  of  them  sacred!  ..." 

From  John  Meigs  to  Mrs.  Raymond: 

"  My  best  beloved  Aunty: 

"  Your  oldest  *  boy '  feels,  after  the  blessed 
Sunday  he  had  with  you  dear,  dear  friends, 
as  if  he  were  ready  to  say,  Nunc  Dimit- 
tls.  .  .  . 

"  I  cannot,  and  therefore  shall  not  try 
to  tell  how  Heaven  itself  helped  to  people 
that  dear  hill  top  with  its  most  blessed 
presences;  and  if  ever  my  soul  aspired  and 
rejoiced  it  was  during  those  brief  but  radiant 
hours  with  you  and  yours — and  ours,  of  earth 
and  Heaven  alike. 

"  Oh,  if  I  could  utter,  as  I  cannot,  the  glad 
burden  of  my  gratitude  and  love  to  you,  dear- 
est of  earthly  friends,  and  yours,  every  one, — 
perhaps  even  your  full  heart  that  must  know 
somewhat  of  the  streams  that  have  issued 
therefrom  to  make  glad  the  City  of  God,  be- 
low, might  feel  a  keener  joy.  .  .  . 

"  I  was  in  the  spirit  in  Durham  much  of 
the  time  and  yet  in  Washington,  too,  for  the 


THE  LIFE  WITHIN  279 

soul's  home  is  in  the  souls  that  have  given 
it  its  new  birth,  as  you  have  really,  mine;  and 
I  go  hurrying  back  to  my  Beloved  and  your 
Beloved  too,  to  tell  her  of  new  and  deep  ex- 
periences that  find  their  power  and  sweetness 
in  this  latest  fellowship  which  it  has  been  my 
rich  blessing  to  enjoy.  .  .  . 

"  Devotedly, 

"John." 

In  the  less  intimate  and  established  friend- 
ships, also,  John  Meigs'  spirit  of  service  was 
able  to  give  and  to  receive  much.  Here,  for 
example,  are  two  incidents  which  are  men- 
tioned in  his  letters  to  his  wife: 

Writing  of  the  illness  of  a  young  girl  in 
whom  he  was  greatly  interested,  he  says: 

"  She  is  sick  in  mind  and  I  simply  could 
not  restrain  my  tears  as  I  rode  along  home 
thinking  of  what  I  should  do  or  try  to  do  if 
one  of  our  own  children  were  thus  stricken; 
and  it  somehow  helped  me  to  understand 
better  the  heart  of  God  as  He  sees  His  sin- 
sick  children  and  must  suffer  to  be  really  our 
heavenly  Father.  We  must  pray  for  the  dear 
child  and  cheer  the  sorrow-laden  parents  and 
learn  the  ever  clearer  lesson  of  forgiveness 
and  love  in  judging  others." 

And  again,  with  reference  to  another  friend : 

"To-night  I  attended  prayer  meeting  dur- 
ing which  I  sat  near  enough  to  E.  ...  to 


280      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

discover  her  manifest  depression  and  agita- 
tion. After  meeting  I  joined  her  and  walked 
with  her  to  her  gate.  A  casual  word,  inti- 
mating some  special  trouble,  the  nature  of 
which  I  easily  divined,  led  me  to  go  into  the 
house,  where  I  had  a  talk  with  her  upon  her 
engagement.  It  turns  out  that  for  a  week 
past  she  has  been  in  utter  misery,  doubting 
the  right  course  to  pursue,  as  the  reputation 
of  her  lover  had  come  to  her  corroborated 
by  conclusive  facts  as  to  his  character.  The 
poor  girl  really  has  had  no  disinterested  coun- 
sel that  had  laid  hold  upon  her  heart  and 
head  alike,  and  I  was  bold  enough  to  be  ut- 
terly frank  with  her  as  to  the  considerations 
that  could  be  educed  on  every  side  of  the  ques- 
tion that  occurred  to  me.  She  has  decided 
to  write  him  and  break  off  her  engagement. 
Her  spirit  and  manner  were  sweet,  womanly 
and  grateful  beyond  expression.  I  feel  un- 
utterably thankful  that  I  went  to  service  to- 
night. So  it  is,  and  must  ever  be:  the 
apparently  incidental  experiences  of  life 
are  what  make  or  mar  our  own  and  other 
lives." 

If  his  letters  to  his  friends  are  revealing  of 
that  inward  ministry  to  his  spirit  which  love 
wrought,  so  also  in  an  even  tenderer  way  are 
his  letters  to  his  children. 

Through  them  runs  a  vein  of  playful  hu- 
mor, as  for  instance  in  these  paragraphs  taken 
from  different  letters  to  his  daughters  at 
school  and  abroad: 


THE  LIFE  WITHIN  281 

"When  we  reach  the  school,  we  shall  ob- 
serve all  the  rules  and  not  make  you  blush 
by  talking  about  your  charms  to  the  girls 
or  even  to  the  teachers.  '  I  embrace  you ! '  as 
Napoleon  used  to  say  in  his  letters  to  his  vari- 
ous wives,  particularly  when  he  was  about  to 
take  another. 

"  You  quite  '  stump '  me  when  you  ask 
about  the  fool  questions  parents  of  new  boys 
ask,  and  yet  I  should  know  a  little  about 
what  they  say. 

"A  very  frequent  statement  is:  Johnnie 
has  so  lovely  a  disposition,  has  never  told  a 
lie,  and  is  so  unselfish — but  he  must  have  a 
southern  exposure  for  his  room,  and  his  health 
is  so  important  that  he  really  ought  to  have 
a  larger  room  than  a  mere  ordinary  boy:  and 
he  is  so  sensitive  about  his  food,  really  can't 
enjoy  broiled  sweetbreads  more  than  twice 
a  day,  nor  sweets  more  than  three  times  a 
day.  He  has  a  very  rare  mind — so  rare  that 
you  cannot  discern  it,  except  under  a  mag- 
nifying glass.  His  less  amiable  qualities  he 
inherits  straight  from  his  father's  side  of  the 
house;  his  good  looks  from  mine.  ..." 

"  Your  letter  of  Friday  reached  me  this 
morning,  and  I  was  greatly  charmed  by  its 
marked  improvement  in  penmanship  and  gen- 
eral style. 

"  If  you  keep  up  this  tone,  you'll  soon  find 
yourself  unable  to  drop  back  into  the  old 
paralyzed,  hen-tracks,  negligee  style  of  yore.'J 

"  I'm  trying  to  be  good  and  get  out  in  the 
air  in  the  automobile  every  day.  It  looks 


282      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

like  new,  and  Frank  seems  to  have  a  new 
coat  of  varnish  put  on  his  manners." 

"A.  .  .  .  has  appeared  in  a  new  Spring 
creation  in  the  shape  of  anything  else  than 
a  hat,  though  she  wears  it  chiefly  on  her  head. 
It  is  much  milder  than  most  of  the  hats  I 
see,  and  as  she  threatens  to  take  it  with  her 
to  Europe,  you'll  see  how  chaste  and  simple 
it  is." 

"  We  have  had  our  usual  early  days'  ex- 
periences with  home-sick  and  book-sick  lads. 

"  The  weather  has  been  superb  for  a  week, 
and  that  has  helped  matters  greatly.  Your 
room  and  '  Gran's '  have  been  occupied  by 
boys  for  several  days — sad  profanation,  in- 
deed, and  their  antics  over  the  east  end  of 
my  study  reminded  me  frequently  that  my 
dignified  mother-in-law  doesn't  vault  over 
beds  and  try  '  drop-kicking '  between  bells 
for  meals." 

But  underneath  the  sparkle  of  this  playful- 
ness, like  the  tide  setting  in  from  the  sea, 
surge  the  great  deeps  of  his  lavishly  expressed 
devotion. 

Thus  he  writes  to  one  of  his  daughters: 

"  My  darling: 

"  No  day  in  Father's  calendar  is  bigger  with 
joy  and  gratitude  than  October  25th,  and  you 
need  no  word  of  mine  to  tell  you  why. 

"  You    have    gone    singing    and     ringing 


THE  LIFE  WITHIN  283 

through  your,  now,  twenty  beautiful  years, 
gladdening  all  hearts  and  none  more  than 
your  Daddy's. 

"  It  would  be  strange,  indeed,  if  with  two 
such  eventful  days  as  the  23d  and  25th  so 
near  me,  I  were  not  counting  my  mercies 
and  recognizing  God's  goodness  to  me  to  a 
degree  far  exceeding  my  deserts. 

"  May  He  keep  you  ever  as  His  own  Angel 
of  tender  love  and  ministrations  to  those  who 
need  you,  Dearest !  " 

And  again: 

"  What  can  I  say  that  is  not  full  of  the  old 
familiar  blessed  love  that  has  filled  my  heart 
to  overflowing  for  you,  my  sweet  comrade, 
during  all  your  days  and  especially  during 
these  last  two  years  of  my  halting  life  when 
we  have  been  thrown  together  in  a  peculiar 
way.  I  cannot  write  a  steamer  letter  to  you, 
for  you  know  my  heart's  inmost  thought  and 
love,  already;  and,  God  willing,  we  shall  soon 
again  take  up  the  blessed,  familiar  fellowship 
on  the  other  side,  where  in  the  meantime  our 
hearts  will  really  be. 

"  You  will  help  and  bless  all  you  know  by 
your  loving  spirit.  God  keep  you  and  enrich 
you  by  the  deepening  sense  of  His  dear 
presence." 

"  Well,  K.  .  .  .  won't  be  a  hundredth  part 
as  glad  to  see  you  as  the  old  white-haired  fel- 
low I  saw  in  the  looking-glass  a  little  while 
ago." 


284      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

But  though  to  his  heart  the  ministry  of  the 
living  was  so  deep  and  beautiful,  the  ministry 
of  the  dead  had  been  more  transforming  still. 

His  eldest  child  was  Edith,  born  February 
25,  1883. 

In  May  of  1890,  Edith  fell  ill  with  diphthe- 
ria. In  a  few  days  the  disease — more  terrible 
and  deadly  then  than  now — ran  its  course. 
On  Saturday,  near  midnight,  on  the  loth  of 
May,  she  died. 

That  which  was  perhaps  the  greatest  crisis 
in  the  growth  of  John  Meigs'  soul  had  come. 

Early  on  the  next  morning  he  came  into 
his  own  room  from  the  room  next  door  where 
lay  the  body  of  his  beloved  dead. 

From  the  windows  high  up  over  The  Hill, 
he  stood  looking  out  as  the  morning  broke. 
Out  across  the  trees  he  gazed,  over  the  sleep- 
ing town  to  the  river  and  the  still  spaces  of 
the  farther  hills  and  to  the  lightening  sky. 
The  breath  of  the  day's  awakening  stirred 
through  the  tops  of  the  trees.  That  exquisite 
and  poignant  loveliness  of  the  morning,  full 
of  its  quivering  suggestion  of  the  infinite  and 
haunting  beauty  which  lies  beyond  the  frame 
of  the  things  we  see,  was  lightening  across 
the  world. 

Yet  other  things,  too,  cut  across  it.  The 
rattle  of  early  wheels  in  the  streets,  the  smoke 
going  up  from  the  distant  furnaces,  the  con- 


THE  LIFE  WITHIN  285 

fused  but  growing  sound  of  the  preparations 
for  the  day,  came  up  like  a  kind  of  inexorable 
reminder  of  the  harsh  facts  of  life,  which 
seem  so  indifferent  to  the  heart's  longing  and 
the  heart's  pain. 

One  deep  human  cry  broke  from  him — 
"  Oh,  if  I  could  only  see  her  once  more  and 
know  that  she  is  alive,  I  could  let  her  go!" 

Then  to  him  in  that  moment  of  his  bitter 
sorrow  came  the  reminder  of  the  words  which 
long  ago  the  Master  said  to  Thomas:  "  Blessed 
are  they  that  have  not  seen  and  yet  have 
believed." 

He  looked  out  again  into  the  morning.  The 
day  had  come. 

Well  has  it  been  said,  "We  live  in  deeds, 
not  years;  in  thoughts,  not  breaths;  in  feel- 
ings, not  in  figures  on  a  dial."  In  that  day 
the  sunlight  went  round  the  face  of  the  dial 
but  once,  but  for  the  soul  of  John  Meigs  it 
was  as  though  the  days  of  all  a  ripening 
harvest-time  had  dawned  and  passed  and  left 
their  fruit.  He  found  for  himself,  that  which 
he  had  longed  for — even  in  the  Valley  of  the 
Shadow,  the  conscious  presence  of  the  living 
God. 

At  the  funeral  the  much-loved  friend,  Dr, 
Rossiter  W.  Raymond,  conducted  the  serv- 
ices. And  these  verses  which  he  wrote  ex- 
pressed not  only  the  message  of  an  ideal,  but 


286      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

that  which  came  true  for  John  Meigs   that 
day. 

" '  Beside  the  dead  I  knelt  for  prayer, 
And  felt  a  presence  as  I  prayed. 
Lo!    It  was  Jesus  standing  there. 
He  smiled :  '  Be  not  afraid ! ' 

" '  Lord,  Thou  hast  conquered  death  we  know ; 

Restore  again  to  life,'  I  said, 

"  This  one  who  died  an  hour  ago/ 

He  smiled :  '  She  is  not  dead ! ' 

"  '  Asleep  then,  as  thyself  didst  say ; 
Yet  thou  canst  lift  the  lids  that  keep 
Her  prisoned  eyes  from  ours  away ! ' 
He  smiled :  '  She  does  not  sleep ! ' 

" '  Nay,  then  tho'  haply  she  do  wake, 
And  look  upon  some  fairer  dawn, 
Restore  her  to  our  hearts  that  ache ! ' 
He  smiled :  '  She  is  not  gone ! ' 

"  '  Alas !  too  well  we  know  our  loss, 
Nor  hope  again  our  joy  to  touch, 
Until  the  stream  of  death  we  cross.' 
He  smiled :  '  There  is  no  such ! ' 

' '  Yet  our  beloved  seemed  so  far, 

The  while  we  yearn  to  feel  them  near, 
Albeit  with  Thee  we  trust  they  are/ 
He  smiled :  '  And  I  am  here ! ' 

" '  Dear  Lord,  how  shall  we  know  that  they 
Still  walk  unseen  with  us  and  Thee, 
Nor  sleep,  nor  wander  far  away  ? ' 
He  smiled :  '  Abide  in  Me/  " 


THE  LIFE  WITHIN  287 

The  following  Wednesday  night,  the  prayer 
meeting  for  the  boys  came  at  its  usual  hour. 
Ordinarily  the  boys  themselves  had  a  large 
part  of  its  conduct.  This  night,  John  Meigs 
went  as  he  always  did,  but  he  asked  that  the 
whole  time  might  be  given  to  him.  Then 
out  of  the  sacred  deeps  of  his  own  experience 
he  brought  to  the  boys  the  message  which 
love  and  pain  had  brought  to  him.  He  tried 
to  help  them  understand  that  night  that  by 
faithfulness  and  obedience  through  the  com- 
mon days  they  must  learn  to  make  Christ 
real  to  their  own  thought  and  will  if  they 
would  find  Him  near  in  the  moments  of  their 
some-time  need. 

It  was  at  this  time  that  he  began  at  the 
evening  prayers  in  the  schoolroom  to  use  a 
phrase  which  became  dearly  familiar  to  those 
who  listened  to  him  as  the  years  went  on: 
"  We  thank  Thee,  Lord,  for  what  Thou  hast 
given,  for  what  Thou  hast  withheld,  for  what 
Thou  hast  taken  away." 

Among  the  copies  of  his  letters  in  1892,  is 
this  one  to  one  of  the  old  boys  who  had  lost 
his  sister: 

"There  is  something  sad,  and  much  more 
unutterably  beautiful,  in  the  thought  of  her 
transition  from  earth  to  heaven  at  this  Easter 
season.  There  will  be  to  you  and  the  other 
boys  a  new  impulse  and  influence  heaven- 


288      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

ward!  The  eternal  joys  upon  which  she  has 
entered  will  become  more  real  to  you  now, 
as  Mrs.  John  and  I  have  learned  through  such 
affliction  to  count  the  sorrow  little  in  the  face 
of  the  infinite  blessings  that  now  attend  our 
dear  ones  who  have  faded  from  our  physical 
sight,  but  who  are  more  dear  and  more  in- 
fluential in  our  lives  because  of  their  physical 
withdrawal.  At  such  a  time  there  is  no  pos- 
sible help  or  comfort  in  any  other  than  Christ. 
One  may  say  what  he  will,  it  is  the  Christ 
who  has  taken  from  death  its  sting  and  from 
the  grave  its  victory.  He  is  the  Ever-Present, 
Ever-Loving  Friend,  and  to  Him,  we  tenderly 
commend  you.  .  .  .  God  help  you  and  com- 
fort you,  as  He  alone  can.  Be  assured  that 
our  hearts  go  out  to  you  here  in  tender  sym- 
pathy, for  we,  too,  have  suffered  the  loss  of 
our  first-born,  and  God  knows  how  truly  we 
can  enter  into  the  sorrows  of  other  hearts; 
and  yet  our  sorrow  has  been  changed  into 
joy.  May  this  be  ...  your  own  portion! 
"  I  send  a  few  copies  of  the  little  memorial 
'  Edith,'  which  may  be  blessed  to  the  comfort 
of  you  all." 

In  letters  to  his  wife  in  the  days  and  years 
after  Edith's  death  he  wrote: 

"  December  27,  1890. 

"  I  have  no  desire  for  the  old-time  lavish 
exchange  of  gifts.  Love  is  best;  and  what 
God  gives  us  must  be  passed  on  to  needier 
souls  than  even  we.  When  I  read  of  what 
Christmas  has  denied  others,  I  feel  self-re- 


THE  LIFE  WITHIN  289 

preached   to   think   that   I   have   received   a 
penny's  worth. 

"January  i,  1891. 

"  God  only  knows  what  the  New  Year  holds 
for  us  of  trial,  it  may  be  of  sorrow;  we  know 
that  all  things  work  together  for  good,  and 
are  ready  to  follow  where  He  leads,  for  it 
can  only  be  towards  light  and  love,  final  and 
triumphant.  As  I  recount  our  experiences  of 
the  past  year  I  thank  God  that  faith,  not 
sight,  is  the  order  of  our  life.  How  hearts 
would  fail  and  courage  die,  if  we  knew  what 
a  day  would  bring  forth !  No  year  of  my  life 
has  been  so  rich  and  fruitful  as  this  old  year, 
1890.  It  has  been  a  period  of  travail  of  soul 
but  of  no  darkness.  God  has  not  veiled  His 
face  and  His  word  has  been  sure.  I  travel 
to  the  setting  sun  with  the  sweetest  joy  and 
peace  in  my  heart  that  I  have  ever  known. 
I  cannot  tell  you  the  infinitude  of  content  and 
gratitude  that  floods  my  soul. 

"  May  10,  1893. 

"The  day  that  signalizes  our  deepest  ex- 
perience of  the  sufficiency  of  Christ's  sustain- 
ing love  has  come  once  more.  It  were  bet- 
ter not  to  think  how  different  life  would  be 
to  us  as  we  think  how  different  it  would  be 
to  our  first-born  darling  had  the  Master  not 
called  her  to  share  His  veriest  life.  God  make 
and  keep  us  worthier  of  her  and  Him,  day 
by  day! 

"May  n,  1895. 

"  I  found  on  my  return  that  the  children 
had  been  invited  to  go  to  Ringing  Rocks  for 


290      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

an  afternoon  picnic  and  I  thought  that  the 
joyous  life  they  would  throw  into  this  outing 
would  quite  fit  the  real  spirit  of  the  fifth  an- 
niversary of  our  precious  Edith's  entrance 
upon  the  life  eternal;  so  I  went  alone  to  the 
cemetery  and  cleaned  up  the  ivy  and  saw 
that  all  was  well  with  the  resting  place  of 
the  dear  body  that  enshrined  our  darling's 
pure  soul. 

"May  12,  1898. 

"  I  was  so  moved  yesterday  to  recall  eight 
years  ago  that  Sabbath  morning  when  to  the 
sacred  sorrow  of  those  early  hours,  dear  old 
Ros  brought  his  great  loving  heart  of  comfort 
and  strength.  Strange  and  divine  mystery 
— how  it  has  deepened  and  sweetened  all  our 
life,  for  through  it  we  have  entered  so  many 
other  lives  which  had  been  else  closed  to  us 
and  we  had  gone  on  our  own  narrow  way ! " 

In  the  year  after  that  letter  was  written, 
while  Mrs.  Meigs  was  absent  on  a  visit,  he 
had  these  words  of  Browning's  painted  over 
the  window  in  their  room,  "  Love  is  all  and 
death  is  naught." 

"  For  through  it  we  have  entered  so  many 
other  lives  which  had  else  been  closed  to  us," 
he  wrote  of  his  sorrow;  and  as  though  they 
were  a  commentary  upon  that,  stand  these 
words  of  one  of  the  masters  at  The  Hill: 

"  He  had  a  flood  of  sympathy,  at  times 
approaching  a  woman's  tenderness,  for  one 


THE  LIFE  WITHIN  291 

in  real  distress.  At  the  time  of  my  wife's 
death,  the  first  big  sorrow  of  my  life,  I  was 
shaken  to  the  very  depths  of  my  nature  by 
an  almost  uncontrollable  grief.  In  the  very 
darkest  hour  he  came,  enveloped  me  in  his 
arms  and  by  such  a  strong,  genuine  outburst 
of  love,  sympathy  and  sorrow,  intermingled 
by  words  of  hope  and  faith,  he  seemed  to 
breathe  into  me  his  very  life.  I  mention  this 
most  sacred  memory  only  as  an  illustration 
of  the  way  in  which  he  gave  his  life  and  love 
and  hope  to  his  very  dying  day." 

Among  some  memoranda  in  his  handwrit- 
ing on  a  few  loose  sheets  of  paper  are  these 
sentences  abbreviated  from  different  para- 
graphs of  Phillips  Brooks'  sermon  on  "  The 
Light  of  the  World": 

"  The  divine  life  is  the  completion,  not  the 
surrender  of  our  humanity.  Christian  char- 
acter is  only  completed  human  character. 
The  Christian  is  only  the  true  man.  The 
Christian  graces  are  only  the  natural  virtues 
(courage,  patience,  trustiness,  humility)  held 
up  into  the  light  of  Christ.  Manliness  has  not 
been  changed  into  Godliness;  it  has  fulfilled 
itself  in  Godliness. 

"  Thus  what  a  great,  clear  thing  salvation 
becomes.  It  is  .  .  .  the  making  of  the  man 
to  be  himself.  .  .  . 

"The  Christian  to  Jesus  is  the  man — the 
completed  man.  With  what  naturalness  this 
idea  clothes  the  invitations  of  the  Gospel. 


292      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

They  are  no  strange  summons  to  some  dis- 
tant unknown  land;  they  are  God's  call  to 
you  to  be  yourself;  they  appeal  to  the  home- 
sickness in  the  soul.  .  .  .  That  you  should 
be  the  thing  you  have  been  and  not  be  that 
better  thing,  that  new  man,  is  unnatural  and 
awful.  .  .  . 

"This  is  the  true  ground  for  the  appeal 
you  desire  to  make  to  other  souls.  '  Come 
home,  come  home.'  '  I  have  found  the  home- 
stead.' '  I  have  found  the  Father.'  '  I  have 
found  the  true  manhood.  I  have  found  what 
you  and  I  and  all  men  were  made  to 
be.  .  .  .' 

"What  then?  If  Christ  can  make  you 
know  yourself;  if  as  you  walk  with  Him  day 
by  day,  He  can  reveal  to  you  your  sonship 
to  the  Father;  if,  keeping  daily  company  with 
Him,  you  can  come  more  and  more  to  know 
how  natural  is  goodness  and  how  unnatural 
sin  is  to  the  soul  of  man;  if,  dwelling  with 
Him  who  is  both  God  and  man,  you  can  come 
to  believe  both  in  God  and  man,  then  you  are 
saved — saved  from  contempt,  despair,  into 
courage  and  hope  and  charity  and  the  power 
to  resist  temptation  and  the  passionate  pur- 
suit of  perfectness. 

"  It  is  as  simple  and  as  clear  as  that.  Our 
religion  is  not  a  system  of  ideas  about  Christ. 
It  is  Christ.  To  believe  in  Him  is  what?  To 
say  a  creed?  To  join  a  church?  No,  but  to 
have  a  great,  strong  divine  Master  whom  we 
perfectly  love,  whom  we  perfectly  trust, 
whom  we  will  follow  anywhere  and  who,  as 
we  follow  Him  or  walk  by  His  side,  is  always 


THE  LIFE  WITHIN  293 

drawing  out  in  us  our  true  nature  and  making 
us  determined  to  be  true  to  it  through  every- 
thing, and  rinding  the  deepest  truth — that  we 
are  the  sons  of  God.  ..." 

And  again,  under  the  text  of  Paul's  words 
to  the  Galatians,  "  Henceforth  let  no  man 
trouble  me;  for  I  bear  branded  on  my  body 
the  marks  of  Jesus": 

"  Oh !  that  we  bear  the  marks  of  our  Lord 
Jesus  visible  to  His  tenderness,  however  faint 
to  the  eye  of  man.  Wherever  there  is  any 
form  of  self-conquest  (of  pride,  ambition, 
envy,  passion,  indolence,  self-indulgence,  im- 
purity) there  is  one  of  the  marks  of  Jesus — 
marks  however  faint.  And  this  is  not  beyond 
the  strength  of  any  one  of  us.  .  .  . 

"  With  all  the  energies  of  an  immortal  life 
let  us  strive  to  bear  at  least  these  marks — in 
virtues  won,  in  faults  corrected,  in  sins  re- 
pented. All  sins  leave  their  scars,  even  when 
the  wound  is  healed;  but  after  forgiveness 
the  very  scars  are  as  Bossuet  said  of  the 
wounds  of  the  immortal  Conde. — "  Proofs  of 
the  protection  of  Heaven." 

"  If  we  can  take  with  us  no  saintly  self- 
denials,  no  rich  spiritual  gifts,  no  noble  serv- 
ices, when  we  stand  before  Christ  in  judgment, 
let  us  at  least  take  the  traces  of  wounds  which 
His  grace  has  closed — proofs  of  recovery. 
It  was  for  this  that  Christ  died  and  rose 
again  and  ever  maketh  intercession  for 


294      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

In  1896  there  came  another  break  in  the 
circle  of  those  he  loved  best.  That  year,  his 
mother  died. 

Thus  he  writes  to  Mrs.  Raymond: 


"  The  Hill,  August  14,  1896. 
"My  beloved  Aunt  Sally: 

"  Once  more  we  rejoice  in  the  Lord  and  His 
gracious  dealing  with  our  beloved  while  we 
sorrow,  as  we  may,  that  we  can  no  longer 
minister,  in  our  feeble  way,  to  her  whose 
tender,  loving  recognition  was  so  precious  to 
her  children's  souls. 

"  The  dear  Lord  understands  all  this  and 
does  not  chide  us  that  we  both  sorrow  and 
rejoice. 

"  The  blasting  heat  of  the  past  week  pros- 
trated dear  Mother  beyond  the  help  of  physi- 
cians, though,  for  a  few  short  hours  on  Tues- 
day we  almost  dared  to  hope.  .  .  .  She 
recognized  us  all  most  sweetly  and  affection- 
ately early  Wednesday,  and  yesterday  at  two 
slipped  peacefully  away  into  the  life  so  radiant 
with  our  beloved. 

"  What  a  life  and  what  a  memory !  .    .    . 

"  To  your  dear  household  who  have  blessed 
us  in  joy  and  sorrow,  as  no  other  has  or  can, 
we  send  our  love,  deeper  still — now  that  a 
new  bond  is  ours. 

"  Devotedly, 

"John." 

And  on  August  i8th  he  writes  again: 


THE  LIFE  WITHIN  295 

"  Truly  if  ever  a  soul  might  say  '  Thy  gen- 
tleness hath  made  me  great ' — it  was  Mother's, 
and  yet  hers  was  the  last  to  think  so  obvious 
a  truth.  .  .  . 

"...  The  children  (except  George  who 
arrived  later)  were  all  here  with  Mother  to  be 
recognized  and  blessed  and  caressed.  .  .  . 
You  may  divine  the  heavenly  beauty  and 
dignity  of  the  sweet  face  that  had  never  lost 
its  early  grace.  After  the  simple  service  con- 
ducted by  the  Episcopal  rector,  a  dear  friend, 
when  all  the  friends  had  withdrawn,  I  read 
the  Scriptural  passages  from  Mother  Ray- 
mond's memorial  and  made  a  brief  prayer 
with  our  loved  ones  only  kneeling  by  or  near 
the  precious  body,  and  thus  in  family  prayer 
which  was  our  Beloved's  delight  we  bade 
farewell  to  the  dear,  dear  form,  glorified  al- 
ways but  now  transfigured — and  yet  to  us 
ever  the  same.  Oh,  how  we  shall  bless  God 
for  you  all  on  the  birthday — and  every  day, 
and  hope  for  a  speedy  meeting!  .  .  . 

"Through  all  these  deep  waters  the  pres- 
ence and  potency  of  your  tender  spirit,  as  in 
times  past,  have  been  our  dear  possession, 
and  in  Him,  to  whom  you  have  ever  led  us  so 
surely  and  so  sweetly,  we  are  strong." 

And  in  another  letter  dated  simply  "  Christ- 
mas," he  writes: 

"We  have  hung  our  stockings  and  ex- 
changed our  gifts  in  the  study  in  which,  as 
Mother's  room,  our  first  Christmas  joys  were 
known.  The  place  is  perfect  for  the  purpose, 


296      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

and  I  am  sure  that  the  pure  and  heavenly 
spirit  of  her  who  glorified  the  room  so  many 
years  shared  our  simple  joys  to-day." 

Upon  a  tablet  erected  to  his  mother's  mem- 
ory in  the  chapel  of  the  school  he  wrote  this 
inscription : 

Mother,  Comforter,  Friend 
In  strength,  gentle 
In  love,  selfless. 
In  service,  tireless 
In  patience,  joyous 
Her  Children  Rise  Up  and  Call  Her  Blessed. 

As  his  eldest  had  died  in  1890,  so  in  1900 
from  the  same  illness,  his  youngest  one,  the 
exquisite  little  Helen,  went  away. 

To  this  new  sorrow  he  brought  again  the 
steadfast  and  courageous  faith  which  he  had 
learned  beyond  all  faltering.  But  henceforth 
there  was  in  his  spirit  a  vaster  note.  The 
old  sparkle  and  playful  banter  still  were  his, 
but  underneath  these  lay  that  still  profundity 
of  unrevealed  emotion  whose  depths  are  filled 
with  tears. 

"  He  went  so  blithely  on  his  way 
The  way  men  call  the  way  of  life, 
That  good  folk  who  had  stopped  to  pray 
Shaking  their  heads,  were  wont  to  say 
It  was  not  right  to  be  so  gay 
Upon  that  weary  road  of  strife : 


THE  LIFE  WITHIN  297 

He  whistled  as  he  went,  and  still 

He  bore  the  young  where  streams  were  deep, 

He  helped  the  feeble  up  the  hill, 

He  seemed  to  go  with  heart  athrill, 

Careless  of  deed  and  wild  of  will — 

He  whistled,  that  he  might  not  weep." 


CHAPTER  IX 
FINAL  ACHIEVEMENTS  AND  A  FINISHED  LIFE 

Growth  of  the  School— The  Fire  in  1901— Pneumonia  in  the 
School— The  Typhoid  Epidemic  of  1902 — The  Breaking  of  John 
Meigs'  Health— Visits  to  Bad  Nauheim — Letters  Concerning  the 
School  and  Its  Future— Death  in  1911. 

THE  last  decade  of  John  Meigs'  life  and 
work  at  The  Hill  was  marked  by  much 
achievement  and   also  by  much   trial. 
In  December,  1900,  another  large  and  hand- 
some   building    containing    recitation    rooms 
on  the  first  floor  and  rooms  for  the  boys  on 
the  floors  afoove,  and  called  the  "  East  Wing," 
had  been  built  at  right  angles  to  the  school- 
room on  the  side  opposite  the  quadrangle. 

During  the  Christmas  vacation  in  Decem- 
ber, 1901,  it  caught  on  fire  in  some  undiscov- 
ered manner  between  the  time  when  the 
night-watchman  left  and  the  time  very  shortly 
afterwards  when  the  first  servants  arrived 
from  outside  the  buildings.  Since  the  boys 
and  masters  were  away  there  was  no  one  in  the 
building,  and  the  fire,  when  it  began,  was  un- 
seen until  too  late  to  check  it.  A  high  wind 
was  blowing,  and  the  building  burned  fiercely; 
and  though  the  work  of  the  men  employed  at 
the  school  and  of  the  town  fire  department 
298 


FINAL  ACHIEVEMENTS  299 

kept  the  blaze  from  spreading  to  the  other 
buildings,  the  East  Wing  itself  was  almost 
completely  destroyed. 

In  the  midst  of  the  fire  there  happened  a 
little  incident  which  showed  with  a  kind  of 
delightful  vividness  the  way  in  which  John 
Meigs'  spirit  could  rally  and  find  humor  even 
in  the  midst  of  disaster.  On  the  day  before, 
which  was  Saturday,  one  of  the  best-loved 
of  the  old  boys,  Upton  Alexander,  had  tele- 
graphed that  he  was  in  Philadelphia,  and  that 
he  wanted  to  come  up  to  The  Hill  for  a  quiet 
Sunday.  The  Professor  took  the  telegram 
from  Mrs.  John  who  had  opened  it  and  said, 
"  Let  me  answer  that."  So  he  dictated  this : 
"  Come  for  your  quiet  Sunday,  and  bring 
your  sneakers  with  you."  When  the  fire 
broke  out  early  the  next  day,  which  was 
Sunday,  Alexander,  of  course,  was  aroused 
by  the  general  alarm,  and  throwing  on  his 
clothes,  and  snatching  up  a  boy's  military 
cap  which  happened  to  be  in  the  room  where 
he  was  sleeping,  he  rushed  out  and  began  to 
help  the  other  men  in  fighting  the  flames. 
For  a  while  it  looked  as  though  the  whole 
school  would  be  swept  away.  The  wind  was 
blowing  perilously,  and  at  the  most  critical 
hour  of  the  fire  word  was  brought  that  on 
account  of  the  fact  that  some  repairs  were  in 
process  to  the  town  reservoir,  it  was  possible 


300      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

that  the  water  would  hold  out  only  half  an 
hour  longer.  It  was  at  this  juncture  that 
Meigs,  with  all  the  possibilities  which  this 
news  brought  before  him,  caught  sight  of 
Alexander  in  his  motley  costume,  working 
feverishly,  with  hatchet  in  hand,  at  a  window 
frame  outside  the  "old  boys'  room."  The 
incongruity  of  this  with  the  "  quiet  Sunday  " 
struck  him,  and  he  shouted  up,  "  Hey,  Upton ! 
Got  your  sneakers  on?"  Alexander  looked 
back  at  him  with  shocked  and  reproachful 
astonishment.  "  How  could  he  be  thinking 
of  a  joke,"  he  said  afterwards  to  Mrs.  Meigs, 
"when  the  whole  school  was  about  to  burn 
up?" 

Once  again  Meigs  set  himself  to  the  task 
of  reconstruction.  The  building  had  been  so 
recently  completed,  and  embodied  so  fully  all 
his  ripest  ideals  for  the  school  that  it  was 
almost  exactly  duplicated.  A  passage  in  a 
letter  which  he  wrote  to  his  sister  the  next 
summer  indicates  the  only  changes  that  were 
made. 

"You  will  be  glad  to  know  that  with  the 
exception  of  the  one  part  of  the  East  Wing 
which  stood  directly  above  the  Greek  Room, 
the  building  is  under  roof.  I  do  not  see  why 
fairly  rapid  progress  should  not  be  made  in 
pushing  it  forward  to  completion.  As  the 
basement  and  first  story  were  so  little 


FINAL  ACHIEVEMENTS  301 

affected  by  the  fire,  a  good  deal  of  the  tedious 
and  heavy  work  connected  with  the  piping 
and  plumbing  will  be  avoided. 

"As  you  may  know,  I  have  decided  to  en- 
large the  part  of  the  building  in  which  the 
Greek  Room  was  located  by  about  eighteen 
feet,  which  will  secure  to  us  an  additional 
classroom  and  six  rooms  for  boys,  which  will 
accommodate  the  third  boy  in  the  cottage 
rooms,  who  is  there  and  everywhere  a  nuisance 
and  will  soon  be,  I  am  happy  to  say,  a  thing 
of  the  past." 

Meanwhile,  for  the  winter  of  1902,  a  tem- 
porary recitation  building  was  put  up;  the 
boys  were  quartered  in  the  infirmary  and  in 
buildings  near  the  school,  and  the  work  went 
on  as  usual.  The  new  East  Wing  was  ready 
for  the  opening  of  the  next  session  in  the 
spring. 

Some  years  before  a  movement  had  been 
begun  by  the  Alumni,  inspired  chiefly  by  Mr. 
Alfred  Raymond,  of  Brooklyn,  and  Mr. 
William  S.  Clawson,  of  Philadelphia,  to  raise 
funds  to  build  a  chapel  as  the  gift  of  the  old 
boys  to  the  school.  Up  to  this  time,  Sunday 
services  as  well  as  the  daily  morning  and  eve- 
ning prayers,  had  been  held  in  the  school- 
room. In  1904,  the  chapel,  built  of  sand- 
stone, larger  and  more  beautiful  than  had  at 
first  been  planned,  was  finished  and  dedicated 
to  the  use  of  the  school. 


302      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

The  chapel  stands  some  fifty  yards  north- 
east of  the  headmaster's  residence,  and  just 
beyond  the  corner  of  the  West  Wing,  to 
which  it  is  placed  at  right  angles.  It  is  of 
a  simple  and  massive,  yet  beautiful  type  of 
collegiate  Gothic.  To  the  south  there  is  an 
entrance  through  a  porch,  and  to  the  east 
another  entrance  under  an  arched  cloister, 
which  runs  along  that  side  of  the  building 
from  the  south  front  to  where,  near  the  north- 
ern end,  rises  a  square  tower.  Within,  the 
chapel  is  finished  in  limestone  and  brick. 
Wide  lancet  windows  on  the  floor  level,  and 
in  the  clerestory  above  light  it.  The  organ 
is  in  the  northeast  corner  within  the  base  of 
the  tower,  and  opposite  that  is  a  transept. 
The  deep  chancel,  which  is  apsidal  in  form, 
bears  upon  its  walls  these  words:  "Watch 
Ye.  Stand  Fast  In  The  Faith.  Quit  You 
Like  Men.  Be  Strong."  A  large  triple  lancet 
window  over  the  south  door  bears  in  its 
center  the  shield  of  the  school,  and  under- 
neath it  the  school  motto,  "  Whatsoever 
things  are  true."  A  tablet  on  the  wall  is  in- 
scribed thus: 

"  As  a  token  of  love  and  loyalty  to  the  School 
And  to  those  whose  lives  have  inspired  it, 
This  chapel  has  been  erected  by  the  Alumni." 

Meigs'  appreciation  of  what  the  Alumni 
had  done  was  great.  He  wrote  to  Mr.  Claw- 


FINAL  ACHIEVEMENTS  303 

son:  "I  cannot  put  into  words  my  personal 
feeling  of  gratitude  and  affection  for  you  and 
Charles  Hatfield  for  the  untiring  and  self- 
sacrificing  devotion  to  the  enterprise  that  you 
have  shown." 

One  other  building,  finished  in  1910,  marked 
the  climax  of  John  Meigs'  constructive  work. 
It  stands  parallel  to  the  old  Sixth  Form  wing 
some  100  yards  to  the  north,  and  with  the 
chapel  at  the  west,  forms  another  open  quad- 
rangle. It  was  the  largest,  as  it  was  the 
newest,  of  all  the  buildings,  and  is  used  for 
rooms  for  masters  and  boys. 

Meanwhile  the  grounds — and  particularly 
the  athletic  grounds — had  been  steadily  en- 
larged, until  the  school  encompassed  about 
120  acres,  with  five  football  fields,  besides 
the  cinder  running  track  and  the  many  tennis 
courts. 

The  year  of  1902,  which  began  with  the 
many  cares  incident  to  the  reconstruction  of 
the  burned  buildings,  was  to  hold  within  itself 
the  deepest  anxieties  and  the  gravest  sorrows 
that  John  Meigs  ever  had  to  face  in  connec- 
tion with  the  life  of  the  school. 

In  February,  there  broke  out  in  the  school 
an  epidemic  of  pneumonia.  Twenty-four  boys 
were  ill  at  different  times,  and  two  died.  Upon 
the  headmaster  the  burden  of  care  was  very 
heavy,  and  the  grief  of  parents  pressed  upon 


3o4      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

him  as  his  own.  Yet  for  himself  and  others 
he  lifted  up  that  largest  aspect  of  sorrow 
which  he  himself  had  learned,  "  What  a  divine 
comfort  to  know  that  P.  ...  has  been  so 
good  and  true  a  lad,  so  thoroughly  conscien- 
tious and  steadfast  in  all  his  life's  relations 
and  duties.  .  .  .  How  our  hearts  rejoice 
with  the  lad  and  sorrow  with  the  parents! 
And  yet  there  is  more  .  .  .  joy  than  sorrow, 
and  I  prayed  to-night  that  we  might  all  truly 
rejoice  at  our  friend's  high  promotion  to  fel- 
lowship so  close  and  satisfying  with  God 
and  Christ.  Even  so — may  we  one  day  at- 
tain!" 

To  his  sister,  Miss  Elizabeth,  who  was  in 
Europe,  he  wrote  of  February  I4th: 

"  Since  my  letter  of  a  fortnight  ago  was 
mailed,  much  has  happened  to  make  the 
year  .  .  .  monumental  in  our  experience. 
.  .  .  Marion  and  I  are  together  undergoing 
with  other  parents  what  we  ourselves  have 
been  called  to  undergo,  and  so  recently  that 
we  can,  perhaps,  speak  words  of  greater  com- 
fort than  those  who  have  not  known  so  re- 
cently the  sorrows  and  the  consolations,  too, 
that  have  been  our  blessed  portion. 

"Among  the  new  boys  one  of  the  finest 
was  George  Lawrence  Laflin,  of  Chicago.  He 
had  always  been  delicate,  super-sensitive,  and 
spiritually  and  mentally  gifted  beyond  his 
years.  He  was  diffident  and  shy,  but  won  my 


FINAL  ACHIEVEMENTS  305 

heart  the  first  time  I  looked  into  his  eyes,  and 
ever  since,  until  the  end  came,  has  he  been 
very  dear  to  me. 

"  During  the  Christmas  holidays  he  had  a 
slight  illness,  which  was  followed  by  the  fatal 
illness  of  his  father's  mother,  to  whom  he  was 
tenderly  devoted,  and  who  died  of  pneumonia 
just  before  the  end  of  the  vacation.  .  .  . 
From  her  funeral  he  came  directly  to  The 
Hill  sick,  depressed  and  saddened.  He  fell 
ill  after  a  few  days  and  developed  pneumonia, 
which  quickly  led  to  his  death.  His  parents 
were  with  him  and  everything  possible  was 
done  to  avert  the  fatal  termination  of  his  sick- 
ness, for  which  the  dear  fellow  was  singularly 
ready.  He  walks  in  light  if  ever  a  boy  was 
prepared  to. 

"At  the  same  time  that  he  fell  ill  several 
others,  with  varying  early  symptoms,  devel- 
oped pneumonia,  and  on  Wednesday  morning 
Graham  Baker's  condition  became  so  hope- 
less that,  in  order  to  avert  from  the  fellows 
the  shock  of  a  second  death  and  particularly 
that  of  an  old  boy,  I  decided  to  close  the 
school  for  a  fortnight,  thus  anticipating  the 
Easter  recess,  and  in  order  to  give  the  boys 
the  mental  relief  incident  to  their  going  home 
and  avoiding  here  the  depression  inevitable 
to  Graham's  death,  then  imminent.  The  dear 
fellow  passed  away  that  afternoon  and  his 
parents,  who  chanced  to  be  in  New  York, 
were  with  him  as  they  had  been  from  Sunday 
evening,  when  they  arrived. 

"  When  we  remember  that  last  year  there 
was  not  a  single  case  of  serious  illness,  we 


3o6      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

find  it  very  hard  to  understand  the  present 
plague  of  pneumonia.  It  has,  however,  been 
everywhere.  Groton  School  has  been  closed 
and  yesterday  we  heard  that  St.  Mark's,  too, 
had  been  closed  and  that  they  have  pneumonia 
at  Hotchkiss.  It  seems  to  be  of  an  unusual 
type,  due  to  atmospheric  and  not  local  condi- 
tions. 

"  Our  first  fear  was  that  the  exposure  of 
the  boys  incident  to  the  emergency  houses 
since  the  fire  might  have  conduced  to  the  un- 
usual number  of  cases,  but  the  fact  is  that 
more  than  two-thirds  of  the  boys  who  have 
been,  or  are,  ill  are  inmates  of  the  regular 
school  buildings.  This  is,  in  a  sense,  gratify- 
ing and  consoling,  for  otherwise  we  should 
feel  responsibility  for  the  possible  exposure 
of  the  fellows  to  the  rigors  of  the  winter. 
We  had  two  weeks  ago,  when  the  trouble 
began,  frightful  weather,  which  has,  however, 
improved  decidedly  and  affords  sick  and  well 
a  better  chance  to  survive  it. 

"  Miss  Cameron,  Mrs.  Smith  and  Miss  Ryan 
have  been  simply  magnificent  in  this  crisis, 
and  everybody  has  been  as  kind  and  consid- 
erate and  helpful  as  could  be  imagined.  The 
boys  themselves  have  been  heroic,  calm,  serene 
and  steadfast,  even  to  the  point  of  questioning 
the  real  occasion  for  their  dismissal  for  a 
time." 

And  after  the  Easter  vacation  he  wrote: 

"  The  boys  have  come  back  to  us  in  fine 
spirit.  Their  demeanor  throughout  these  crit- 


FINAL  ACHIEVEMENTS  307 

ical  weeks  has  been  sublime,  serene  and  cheer- 
ful beyond  all  praise.  Somehow  we  feel  that 
our  fellowship  in  suffering  has  been  helpful 
to  us;  and  the  parents  have  been  noble  in 
their  sympathy  and  hopefulness." 

With  a  great  thankfulness  and  relief  Dr. 
and  Mrs.  Meigs  saw  that  school  session  come 
to  an  end.  As  they  stood  on  the  deck  of  the 
little  steamer  that  took  them  up  Lake  George 
to  their  summer  cottage,  he  looked  out  over 
the  beautiful,  still  water  and  said  to  her, 
"  Does  it  seem  possible  that  we  have  put  this 
most  awful  year  behind  us?" 

Yet  a  greater  crisis  than  that  of  the  pneu- 
monia was  impending.  Scarcely  had  they  ar- 
rived at  the  cottage,  near  Sabbath  Day  Point, 
when  letters  began  to  come  telling  that  one 
boy  and  another  and  another  was  ill  with 
typhoid.  Meigs  hurried  back  instantly  to  The 
Hill  to  see  if  he  could  discover  there  any  ex- 
plaining cause.  The  water  system  had  been 
one  of  the  prides  of  the  school,  with  an  artesian 
well  of  its  own,  and  a  system  of  drainage 
planned  and  executed  under  the  direction  of 
Colonel  George  E.  Waring,  the  famous  sani- 
tary engineer  who  transformed  the  cities  of 
Cuba.  But  it  was  found  that  underground  a 
pipe  had  burst,  and  a  leakage  had  percolated  a 
long  distance  by  a  fissure  in  the  rock  until  it 
had  contaminated  the  well.  Meigs  immedi- 


3o8      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

ately  gave  orders  for  the  installation  of  an 
absolutely  new  system,  taking  the  water  from 
a  new  source,  filtering  even  that  which  went 
into  the  swimming  pool,  and  sterilizing  all 
that  was  used  for  cooking  and  drinking; — sent 
out  letters  to  the  parents  of  all  the  boys  tell- 
ing them  the  facts  and  went  back  to  Lake 
George  with  a  burdened  heart,  knowing  that 
tidings  of  illness  and  danger  were  likely  to 
multiply. 

And  they  did.  One  after  another  the  let- 
ters came  telling  of  this  one  and  that  whom 
the  fever  had  attacked.  From  the  point  on 
the  beautiful  shore  at  Bluff  Head  where  his 
house  was,  Meigs  could  see  the  mail  boat 
steam  into  sight  far  down  the  Lake,  long  be- 
fore it  reached  Sabbath  Day  Point  to  which 
his  letters  came.  With  a  daily  agony  of  ap- 
prehension he  used  to  watch  it,  fearful  of  the 
news  it  brought.  The  weary  list  of  the 
stricken  grew  as  the  days  went  by,  to  nearly 
one  hundred,  masters  and  boys.  Then  came 
the  news  of  this  one  and  another — five  in  all 
— who  had  died.  Among  the  boys  who  were 
most  ill  was  "  Manny  "  Holabird,  a  leader  in 
every  aspect  of  the  life  of  The  Hill — in  face 
and  body  beautiful,  an  athlete  and  scholar, 
the  kind  of  beloved  figure  to  whom  the  boys 
looked  up  as  one  of  their  heroes.  When 
John  Meigs  learned  that  he,  too,  seemed  at 


FINAL  ACHIEVEMENTS  309 

the  point  of  death  his  cup  of  agony  was  full. 
It  was  his  custom  to  go  into  his  own  room 
with  his  wife  every  morning  after  breakfast 
to  read  together  George  Matheson's  "  Times 
of  Retirement,"  and  to  pray.  This  day  the 
depths  of  his  soul  cried  out,  and  he  prayed: 
"  Oh,  my  God,  take  anything  we  have,  take 
our  children,  but  spare  Manny!"  It  was  not 
so  to  be.  Two  days  later  came  the  news  that 
Holabird  was  dead. 

In  the  chapel  at  The  Hill  is  this  tablet  to 
his  memory,  written  by  John  Meigs  himself: 

William  Holabird,  Jr. 
April  4,  1884 — August  18,  1902 

"  Manny  " 

Athlete,  Scholar,  Gentleman. 
For  his  loyal  friendship,  and  for  his 
fidelity  to  the  highest  standards  of  the 
school,  which  he  helped  to  lift  higher 
still,  beloved  and  honored. 

His  strength  was  as  the  strength  of 
ten,  because  his  heart  was  pure. 

That  summer,  a  certain  man,  with  blunder- 
ing sympathy,  said  to  John  Meigs:  "  What 
effect  do  you  suppose  all  this  dreadful  hap- 
pening will  have  on  your  school?  "  He  turned 
upon  him  with  fierce  amazement,  "  My  school, 
my  school,"  he  said,  "  I  am  not  thinking  of 
the  school,  I  am  thinking  of  these  boys ! " 

When  the  school  opened  in  September,  a 


3io      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

larger  number  than  ever  were  on  the  applica- 
tion list.  And  one  night  the  door  opened, 
and  in  walked  the  father  of  "  Manny  "  Hola- 
bird,  bringing  his  only  other  son. 

Many  letters  came  which  must  have  helped 
over  the  sad  road.  One  of  the  men  who  used 
to  come  to  preach  at  The  Hill  wrote: 

"  My  dear  Hero : 

"  I  have  been  on  the  point  of  writing  to 
you  for  a  long  time  past  to  express  my 
sympathy  with  you  in  your  awful  burden  and 
my  profound  admiration  for  the  way  you  have 
borne  it.  It  is  wonderful  to  me — this  triumph 
of  yours,  as  witnessed  to  me  by  the  loyalty  of 
your  boys.  God  bless  you." 

In  this  grievous  year  John  Meigs  learned, 
perhaps,  better  than  he  had  ever  known  be- 
fore how  deeply  the  school  was  intrenched 
in  the  hearts  of  many;  but  the  wounds  of  his 
own  sufferings  were  deep.  After  that  year 
his  physical  strength,  which  had  been  great, 
began  gradually  to  wane. 

In  one  of  his  letters  of  February,  1903,  is 
this  comment: 

"  In  a  brief  conversation  at  Pittsburgh  with 
the  Secretary  of  the  Treasury,  who  has  just 
returned  from  the  Lincoln's  birthday  celebra- 
tion at  Chicago,  I  was  expressing  regret  at 
A.  .  .  ,'s  departure  when  he  said,  *  Yes, 


FINAL  ACHIEVEMENTS  3 1 1 

A.  .  .  .  is  a  greater  man  than  the  country 
has  perhaps  realized.  He  has  reached  the 
summit  of  an  earthly  career  and  his  time  to 
die  is  now.'  I  returned  to  Washington  re- 
cently from  my  brother's  death-bed.  He  was 
just  fifty  and  I  felt  his  going  very  keenly, 
particularly  at  his  age;  on  my  going  to  the 
Club  in  Washington,  I  met  Mr.  K.  .  .  ., 
formerly  a  distinguished  member  of  Congress 
from  my  state,  and  exclaimed  upon  the  long 
interval  which  had  lapsed  since  last  I  saw  him 
or  knew  of  his  doings.  He  had  been  two 
months  in  a  hospital  and  few  knew  the  fact. 
I  said  to  myself,  better  dead  at  fifty  than  alive 
at  eighty." 

In  the  spring  of  1906  came  the  keenest  per- 
sonal disappointment  which  marked  his  whole 
life  at  The  Hill, — a  discovery  which  forced 
him  to  separate  almost  immediately  from  the 
school  one  of  the  masters  whom  he  had  loved 
and  trusted  most.  He  writes: 

"  Matters  are  moving  on  quietly  and  on  the 
whole  surprisingly  well.  It  is  really  an  im- 
pressive illustration  of  a  familiar  principle  that 
no  one  is  indispensable  that  .  .  ,'s  drop- 
ping out  affords.  It  will,  of  course,  be  pre- 
cisely the  same  in  the  case  of  any  one  or  all 
of  us,  so  far  as  the  main  affair  of  common 
and  commanding  interest — the  school — is  con- 
cerned. The  men  have  rallied  so  nobly  and 
assumed  so  strong  tho'  silent  a  protectorate 
of  its  large  interests  that  one  is  greatly 


3i2      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

heartened.    These  leaden  days  have  a  golden 
setting  and  a  glorious  dawn  to  follow." 

But  the  "leaden  days"  cast  their  long 
shadow  on  his  heart,  nevertheless.  His  hopes 
and  plans  for  the  organization  of  the  school, 
his  personal  affection,  his  confidence, — all 
were  involved  in  the  sudden  and  deep  dis- 
tress. He  slept  restlessly,  and  would  cry  out 
sometimes  at  night  in  words  that  showed 
his  dreams  were  tracing  again  the  experience 
which  had  put  its  mark  upon  his  very  inmost 
spirit. 

The  life  in  the  summer  at  the  cottage  on 
Lake  George  came  in  these  years  to  be  to 
him  more  and  more  an  oasis  of  refreshment. 
He  rejoiced  in  the  simplicity  and  quiet  of  the 
little  house;  and  reveled  in  the  beauty  of 
the  blue  lake  and  the  mountains  which  spread 
their  lovely  panorama  before  his  door.  He 
could  play  with  the  children,  and  read  for 
hours  aloud  with  "  Mrs  John  " ;  and  always  at 
mail  time  he  would  go  across  the  Lake  to 
the  post-office  at  Sabbath  Day  Point,  and 
often  at  other  hours  go  out  here  and  there 
in  a  small  launch  which  he  loved  to  run. 

In  one  of  his  letters  to  his  sister  in  the 
summer  of  1906,  he  writes : 

"  Little  as  there  is  really  eventful  in  the 
swift  gliding  of  the  days  and  weeks  here  at 


FINAL  ACHIEVEMENTS  313 

the  Lake,  it  will  interest  you  to  know  how 
well  and  happy  we  are  with  the  children's 
friends  and  joys.  .  .  . 

"  We  are  finding  much  more  comfort  in  the 
place  than  we  had  dared  hope  for;  tho'  Marion 
finds  it  hard  to  live  in  a  mere  house,  and  would 
not  accept  the  land  with  the  house  on  it  as  a 
free  gift  from  divine  or  human  hands,  if  we 
might  have  a  cabin  of  logs,  with  bark  and 
moss  on  them,  and  a  leaky  roof  and  bugs 
chasing  over  us  on  pine  branch  lairs,  and  an 
occasional  light  meal  of  thick  cream  and  pre- 
digested  stuff,  preferably  in  tablets,  one  of 
which  would  carry  us  three  days,  not  including 
Sundays. 

"  The  launch  has  been  out  of  commission 
since  our  arrival,  except  for  three  or  four 
days,  but  will  be  in  condition  this  afternoon. 
You  can  imagine  the  pleasant  sense  of  being 
marooned  for  two  weeks  or  more  on  the 
'offside'  of  space.  ..." 

By  the  fall  of  this  year  there  had  begun  to 
make  itself  felt  the  serious  heart  trouble 
which,  with  intervals  of  seeming  improve- 
ment, grew  worse  until  his  death,  five  years 
later.  The  development  of  this  disease  bur- 
dened his  mind  often  with  the  apprehension 
that  he  might  be  crippled  in  a  way  which  to 
his  active  temperament  seemed  worse  than 
death.  The  fact  that  he  had  had  three 
brothers  who  broke  down  in  middle  life  and 
lingered  in  invalidism,  made  him  fear  this 


3 14      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

the  more.  Repeatedly  he  was  heard  to  say 
that  he  prayed  God  would  mercifully  let  him 
drop  in  the  harness — and  the  end  when  it 
came  was  the  answer  to  his  prayer.  When 
the  doctors  told  him  what  he  must  do  to 
help  check  the  malady,  he  set  himself  to  face 
the  necessity  with  characteristic  thoroughness 
and  determination.  All  his  life  he  had  been 
a  man  free  from  all  dissipation,  but  he  had 
eaten  what  he  pleased  with  never  an  apparent 
cause  to  hesitate.  Now,  however,  he  had  to 
accept  a  most  rigid,  and  to  him  often  un- 
pleasant, diet,  with  coffee  and  many  other 
things  he  had  been  accustomed  to  eliminated. 
He  conformed  himself  to  the  new  state  of 
things  so  simply  and  immediately  that  some- 
one remarked  on  it  one  day,  and  asked 
whether  he  had  not  found  the  restriction  very 
hard.  He  answered :  "  Anything  is  easy  which 
you  make  up  your  mind  to  do." 

In  December,  1906,  he  went  for  a  while  to 
the  sanitorium  at  Watkins  Glen,  N.  Y.,  and 
in  April,  1907,  he  was  at  Winnetka,  Illinois, 
for  another  enforced  rest.  He  writes  home: 

"  Watkins  Glen, 
December  6,  1906. 

"  I  am  relaxing  and  am  doing  my  best  to 
accelerate  my  cure  by  working  with  the  doc- 
tors to  the  limit  of  my  heart  and  will."  .  .  . 
[He  found  great  happiness  in  the  friendship 


FINAL  ACHIEVEMENTS  315 

and  companionship  of  Mrs.  Cyrus  McCor- 
rnick.]  "  Dr.  K.  .  .  .  seemed  to  think  that 
Mrs.  McCormick  and  I  naturally  fell  to  talk- 
ing on  kindred  interests  too  much  and  thus 
intensified  rather  than  lightened  our  thinking. 
She  certainly  is  a  wonder  and  we  still  have  an 
occasional  shy  at  each  other.  .  .  .  The  more 
I  see  of  her  the  more  impressed  I  am  with 
her  mind  and  spirit.  We  have  established  an 
abiding  friendship  I  believe,  and  surely  she 
has  made  my  stay  here  marvelously  different 
from  what  it  would  have  been  without  her. 

"  I  am  hoping  the  new  term  will  open  hap- 
pily. How  my  heart  aches  to  be  out  of  it 
and  yet  I  am  so  grateful  for  the  loyal  hearts 
there  to  carry  on  the  work." 

And  from  Winnetka: 

"April  21,  1907. 

"  We  shall  go  to  church  with  J.  .  .  .  this 
morning.  They  are  much  comforted  to  know 
that  their  present  minister  will  retire  soon. 
It  is  a  common  but  always  pathetic  ordeal 
when  a  man  is  no  longer  efficient  in  his 
church,  or  other  field  of  service,  and  just  now 
my  sympathy  with  such  an  one  is  especially 
keen!" 

"April  23,  1907. 

"  I  rejoice  with  you  that  Mr.  Speer  was  so 
strong  and  impressive.  God  grant  that  the 
fellows,  especially  the  Sixth  Form,  may  have 
received  some  uplift  that  will  endure.  What 
of  the  Sixth  Form?  Are  they  developing 


316      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

any  larger  sense  of  responsibility,  any  finer 
perception  of  their  duty  for  moral  leader- 
ship?" 

But  the  treatment  at  Watkins  Glen  and  the 
rest  at  Winnetka  was  not  enough  to  give  him 
back  his  health.  When  the  school  year  drew 
to  a  close  he  realized  that  he  would  have  to 
take  heroic  measures  if  he  was  to  find  restora- 
tion. The  doctors  told  him  that  he  ought  to 
go  to  the  baths  in  Germany  as  the  most  hope- 
ful chance  of  arresting  the  trouble  with  his 
heart.  So,  very  reluctantly,  in  this  summer 
of  1907  he  started  on  the  first  of  what  were 
to  prove  the  repeated  enforced  trips  abroad. 

To  one  of  the  masters  on  the  eve  of  his 
departure  he  writes: 

"  This  is,  believe  me,  a  mild  expression  of 
my  sense  of  peculiar  gratitude  and  obligation 
to  you  for  your  sympathy  and  co-operation  in 
the  most  difficult  years  of  my  life,  during 
which  your  loving  loyalty  has  been  a  balm 
to  the  soul  of 

"  Yours  affectionately, 

"John  Meigs." 

From  the  steamer  he  writes  home: 

"  S.  S.  '  Deutschland/  July  2,  1907. 
"  This   has  been   so   far,   the   serenest   sea 
voyage  I  have  ever  had.     Not  a  qualm  nor  a 
suggestion  of  physical  discomfort  of  any  sort;, 


FINAL  ACHIEVEMENTS  317 

enough  acquaintances  on  board  to  feel  the 
joy  of  human  fellowship  with  whom  a  few 
words  a  day  signify  much  in  little;  plenty  of 
sleep  in  the  twenty-four  hours,  and  above  all, 
the  priceless  quiet  times  for  that  dearest  fel- 
lowship with  my  dear  ones  and  with  our 
loving  Christ,  who  seem  nearer  and  dearer  as 
my  earthly  cares  recede  and  my  earthly  bless- 
ings tower  so  high  and  precious.  I  try  to 
think  of  you  all  as  you  are  and  dismiss  such 
apprehensions  as  too  easily  face  one  and 
plague  one  in  his  absence,  for  the  same  dear 
Lord  holds  us  all  in  His  tender  keeping." 

To  Mrs.  Meigs  he  writes  from  Bad  Nau- 
heim,  July  7,  1907: 

"  I  had  my  first  bath  Saturday  at  twelve 
and  my  second  this  morning  at  nine.  To- 
morrow is  my  rest  day,  indicating  more  de- 
liberation here  than  at  Glen  Springs  in  the 
treatment,  though  I  don't  welcome  this  save 
as  a  starter,  for  I  'ain't  got  long  to  stay 
here.' " 

"  Yesterday  after  luncheon  we  took  a  drive 
in  and  about  the  town  to  get  our  bearings, 
and  after  dinner  strolled  up  to  the  '  Kurhaus/ 
an  establishment  for  the  entertainment  of  the 
visitors,  who  are  taxed  $5.00  a  head  to  main- 
tain it,  and  of  the  citizens,  who  may  buy 
family  tickets  at  a  considerable  reduction.  It 
is  like  a  great  big  club  house,  with  a  fine 
reading  room,  billiard  room,  restaurant  and  a 
large  expanse  of  terrace,  on  which  are  set 
tables  for  '  al  fresco '  service  of  food  and 


3i8      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

drink,  and  best  of  all,  an  orchestra  of  about 
fifty  pieces  which  gives  concerts  three  times 
daily  in  the  season.  There  is  also  a  theater 
attached  which  gives  operas  and  plays.  This 
afternoon  we  drove  out  to  Steinfurth,  which 
is  famous  for  its  rose  gardens  belonging  to 
the  Schultheis  brothers,  who  have  250,000 
bushes  in  bloom  in  the  height  of  the  season, 
and  an  old  tower  with  a  medieval  castle  and 
a  modern  thriftiness  and  wholesomeness  that 
would  put  most  American  towns  of  its  size 
to  the  blush." 

"July  9,  1907. 

"  Nauheim  is  beautifully  ordered  and  kept. 
Such  scrupulous  neatness  would  astound  the 
minds  of  the  residents  of  Pottstown  and  I 
should  like  to  have  a  few  of  them  see  what 
is  possible  in  the  way  of  municipal  house- 
keeping." 

"July  12,  1907. 

"  The  weather  since  our  arrival  and,  we  are 
informed  by  friends,  since  early  June,  requires 
a  more  gifted  pen  than  mine  to  have  justice 
done.  It  is  both  cold  and  rainy  and  as  there 
is  no  provision  for  heating  moderately  the 
hotel  we  shiver  and  shake  at  intervals  when 
the  infrequent  and  coy  sun  glances  at  us 
askance ;  still  I  am  so  busy  with  fussing  that  it 
is  pretty  much  of  a  muchness  for  me  however 
the  wind  blows  and  the  Dutch  goes.  You 
should  be  here  to  listen  to  our  fluent  conversa- 
tion with  the  natives,  who  shy  like  W.  .  .  . 
at  an  unexpected  meeting  on  a  corner.  I  an> 


FINAL  ACHIEVEMENTS  319 

supposed  to  dp  nothing  but  loaf  and  recover 
from  the  possible  tax  upon  my  system  of  the 
baths,  three  of  which  have  intervened  since 
my  former  'rest  day'  which  of  itself  is  en- 
couraging as  indicating  the  doctor's  opinion 
of  my  constitutional  strength  of  resistance, — 
though  I  am  obviously  in  the  category  of 
1  him  who  putteth  his  armor  on '  and  shall 
refrain  from  the  feeblest  suggestion  of  boast- 
ing. 

:'Two  weeks  and  a  half  have  passed  since 
I  sailed  and  they  seem  like  months.  Indeed 
I  do  not  dare  to  allow  myself  to  measure  time 
or  space  or  sensibilities  lest  shipwreck  over- 
take me  utterly.  My  heart  is  so  absolutely 
elsewhere  that  I  sometimes  wonder  how  it 
can  be  here  at  all  to  be  benefited  by  the  treat- 
ment. I  try  to  be  full  of  thankfulness  to  God 
that  I  can  make  this  effort, — and  effort  it 
truly  is,— to  better  my  condition  when  it  is 
denied  so  many." 

"July  15,  1907. 

"  It  is  unspeakably  solacing  to  my  soul  to 
feel  that  I  have  tidings  of  you  all  up  to  yes- 
terday, for  one  does  not  need  companionship 
in  general  terms  so  much  as  the  companion- 
ship of  his  very  own.  I  might  have  a  score 
of  friends  here  to-day  but  I  should,  actually, 
still  be  lonely;  but  having  none  and  my  dear 
ones  in  spiritual  communion  and  none  to  in- 
tervene I  am  with  you  all  in  a  deeper  sense. 
As  Stevenson  says,  '  When  we  are  alone  we 
are  only  nearer  the  absent.'  ...  I  heard 
from  L.  .  .  .  that  John  Timothy  Stone  was 


320      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

on  the  steamer  with  him.  How  I  would  like 
to  catch  the  old  heathen  over  here  and  coach 
him  in  Dutch." 

"July,  1907. 

"  I  have  had  a  very  long  and  exciting  after- 
noon with  a  Mr.  L.  .  .  .  from  P.  ...  and 
must  lie  to  for  repairs.  He  talks  faster  than 
anyone  I  have  encountered  for  a  long  time 
and  laughed  so  much  that  I  feel  as  if  I  had 
been  in  a  hen  roost  for  an  afternoon's  diver- 
sion." 

"July  21,  1907. 

"Well,  it  looks  now,  Heaven  be  praised! 
as  if  we  should  return  two  weeks  earlier!  !  !  ! 
though  I  cannot  hope  to  be  with  you  at  the 
beloved  Lake  for  my  birthday,  I  may  expect 
to  arrive  on  the  second,  reaching  New  York 
by  September  first  if  we  arrive  in  time.  What 
a  joy  and  rapture  to  think  of  ten  days  at  the 
Lake!  !  !  !  God  be  thanked  for  this  much 
more  of  life." 

"July  24,  1907. 

"  You  speak  most  naturally  of  my  coming 
back  a  '  new  man '  in  point  of  energy  and 
vigor.  This  I  verily  believe  is  not  to  be.  If, 
however,  I  can  secure  from  this  treatment 
such  reinforcement  as  will  enable  me  to  go 
on,  moderately,  with  my  beloved  work  for  a 
few  years  longer,  even  though  I  should  have 
to  come  here  summer  after  summer  to  pro- 
long my  period  of  service,  I  shall  be  unspeak- 
ably thankful — for  there  is  so  much  to  be  done 


FINAL  ACHIEVEMENTS  321 

for  which  it  seems  as  if  my  heart  and  soul 
were  only  preparing.  Pray  for  this  at  least; 
pray  indeed  for  perfect  restoration,  if  God  so 
wills, — but  we  shall  rest  content  if  it  be  His 
will  that  I  may  go  on  for  a  little  while  longer, 
though  I  do  crave  the  service  of  not  a  few 
years.  It  is  said  that  the  real  benefit  of  the 
cure  is  not  appreciable  for  weeks  and  even 
months,  so  that  we  shall  be  patient  and  ex- 
pectant. It  seems  as  if  the  sight  of  my 
beloved  ones  will  do  my  heart  more  good  than 
all  else  man  can  devise.  Still  I  want  you  to 
believe  me  hopeful  —  and  grateful  —  beyond 
words,  that  I  have  had  this  rare  chance  to 
do  the  best  we  know  for  my  health." 

"July  31,  1907. 

"  There  is  a  mere  chance  of  our  getting 
away  on  the  '  Kaiser  Wilhelm  II '  which 
holds  the  record  for  the  transatlantic  run, 
which  should  arrive  not  later  than  the  twenty- 
eighth  or  twenty-ninth,  so  that  I  should  be 
with  you  for  my  birthday,  if  this  fortune 
favors  me.  I  finish  my  *  cure '  two  or  three 
weeks  earlier  than  the  doctor  suggested  two 
weeks  ago  and  I  don't  see  what  better  use  I 
could  possibly  make  of  these  days  than  by 
starting  correspondingly  earlier  for  my  loved 
ones'  abode  at  the  dear  old  Lake;  if  you  know 
something  wiser  for  me  to  do,  you  may  cable 
me,  collect. 

"Among  the  guests  here,  the  most  trying 
person  on  my  nerves,  is  a  1.  .  •.  .,  who  brought 
a  card  of  introduction  to  me  from  the  father 
of  one  of  our  boys.  This  gentle  soul  sits  up 


322      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

calmly  in  the  hotel  lobby  and  enjoys  indulging 
in  a  monologue  in  a  tone  which  overpowers 
the  hum  of  quiet  conversation  and,  naturally, 
concentrates  observation  upon  himself — and 
me, — until  I  run  away  abruptly  to  the  won- 
dering eyes  and  attention  of  the  other  guests. 
He  is  just  as  likely  to  be  telling  how  bad  the 
food  is  as  to  be  confiding  to  me  the  state  of 
his  internal  department  or  the  low  opinion  he 
has  of  doctors  generally.  As  he  '  has  it  in ' 
for  most  everybody  and  everything  on  earth 
but  his  little  four-year-old  girl  at  home  and 
his  family  cook,  he  does  not  lack  for  themes 
for  his  soliloquizing.  I  am  taking  most  of 
my  meals  in  my  room  just  now  to  escape  for 
a  season,  at  least,  his  personal  attentions. 
It  is  truly  a  good  experience  for  me  in  a  way, 
but  does  not  minister  to  peace  of  mind  in  my 
feeble  estate." 

"  August  6,  en  route  to  Frankfort. 
"  I  took  my  last  bath  Sunday  morning, 
spent  my  last  '  rest  day '  somewhat  restlessly 
as  you  may  imagine,  and  having  packed  de- 
liberately during  the  afternoon  was  ready 
for  an  early  start  for  Frankfort.  My  final 
interview  with  the  doctor  was  very  satisfac- 
tory in  its  helpful  suggestions  as  to  my  mode 
of  life,  etc.  I  asked  him  such  questions  as 
I  had  jotted  down  and  he  answered  me  clearly 
and  frankly.  The  main  question,  after  all, 
was  as  to  the  presumable  effect  of  my  malady 
upon  my  life-work.  He  said  if  I  moderated 
the  ordering  of  my  life,  and  deputed  to  others 
duties  that  could  be  transferred  so  as  to 


FINAL  ACHIEVEMENTS  323 

secure  genuine  mental  relief  from  anxieties 
as  to  their  conduct,  regulating  my  diet  as  was 
practicable  and  obtaining  frequent  intervals 
of  rest,  I  ought  to  be  able  to  go  on  for  years 
of  happy  and  useful  service.  My  trouble  has 
only  advanced  far  enough  to  summon  the 
reserves  of  my  vital  powers  to  resist  and  we 
should  be  able  to  check  the  progress  of  the 
arterio-sclerosis,  by  vigilance  and  moderate 
employment  of  my  strength  or  weakness.  I 
asked  him  if  I  should  have  to  return  to 
Nauheim  next  year.  He  said,  '  That  would 
depend  upon  your  condition  later  on.'  It's 
heavenly  to  be  rid  of  the  sense  of  treatment 
for  a  time.  I  shall  rest  and  be  sensible  and 
do  all  the  loafing  I  can." 

"  Burgenstock,  August  8,  1907. 

"  We  arrived  at  Lucerne  at  midnight  and 
reached  this  place  of  marvelous  beauty  about 
noon  yesterday.  We  came  up  from  the  Lake, 
thirteen  hundred  feet,  by  a  funicular  railway 
to  the  narrow  level  of  the  ledge  of  the  moun- 
tain on  which  the  hotel  is  perched.  We  are 
higher,  here,  than  the  top  of  Black  Mountain 
and  while  the  view  is  similar  it  is  vastly  more 
majestic  with  its  snow-capped  mountains 
piled  up  to  the  sky  on  the  eastern  horizon 
and  the  rocky  abutment  of  range  upon  range 
in  every  other  direction  than  the  north. 

"  Lucerne  nestles  at  the  head  of  the  Lake, 
perhaps  twelve  or  fifteen  miles  away,  looking 
last  night  with  its  myriad  lights  like  a  fairy- 
land, while  the  deep  carmine  band  of  sunset 
light,  confined  closely  to  the  horizon  by  the 


324      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

dull  leaden  clouds,  gave  an  unearthly  hue  to 
the  wondrous  scene  of  beauty.  Near  at  hand 
are  the  characteristic  Alpine  pastures  and 
little  farms,  and  the  lovely  villas  lie  along 
the  Lake  in  easy  sight.  The  hotel  is  perched 
on  the  edge  of  the  cliff,  which  seems  to  fall 
sheer  into  the  Lake.  One  stands  on  the 
esplanade  and  looks  into  space,  almost  be- 
wildered by  the  lavish  beauties  on  every  hand. 
The  silence  is  not  of  earth,  and  yet  the  earth 
is  so  real.  The  mountain  tops  are  hung  here 
and  there  with  fleecy  clouds,  the  snow-capped 
peaks  little  obscured  by  their  passing  shadows, 
and  at  many  points  the  sharp  Sierras  cleave 
the  blue  with  dazzling  whiteness.  The  Jung- 
frau  is  visible  and  many  another  famous 
mountain  height.  I  feel  so  selfish  amid  such 
entrancing  beauty  as  the  landscape  affords, 
that  I  groan  in  spirit  to  think  I  have  none 
of  my  beloved  here  to  share  it  with  me. 
I  shall  be  devoutly  glad  to  spend  my  days 
here  instead  of  in  the  more  frequented  haunts 
of  men  until  I  start  for  Paris  and  Cherbourg." 

"August  12,  1907. 

"  It  is  a  little  past  seven,  early  for  breakfast 
on  this  mountain  top.  Yesterday  was  a  most 
beautiful  and  interesting  day.  At  eight  there 
was  early  Communion  in  the  parlor,  con- 
ducted, of  course,  by  a  Church  of  England 
clergyman  who  dispensed  the  bread  and  wine 
to  one  other  person  than  myself.  He  is  a 
curate  of  St.  Judes',  Brixton,  England,  and  is 
sent  here  as  I  suppose  scores  of  others  are 
sent,  to  minister  to  the  chance  people  at  the 


FINAL  ACHIEVEMENTS  325 

resorts.  I  do  my  reading  of  our  '  Daily 
Strength/  'Rests  by  the  River '  and  the  New 
Testament  before  breakfast,  so  that  about 
quarter-past  ten  I  took  the  boat  from  Brunnen 
to  see  the  surpassing  beauties  of  the  view 
from  Axenstein,  which  is  on  the  mountains 
higher  up,  I  should  say,  than  the  Grand  Hotel, 
Burgenstock.  I  am  more  and  more  impressed 
with  the  narrowness  of  the  Lake  as  contrasted 
with  Lake  George.  It  is  more  like  a  river  as 
to  width  and  would  not  compare  with  our 
really  great  rivers  in  this  respect,  but  the 
soaring  mountains  and  piles  of  jagged  rocks, 
snow-clad  peaks  and  vista  after  vista  among 
the  receding  ranges  give  a  quite  different  im- 
pression that  is  more  majestic  and  overwhelm- 
ing as  an  expression  of  Nature's  grandeur. 

"  These  Swiss  have  the  genius  for  grasping 
the  salient  points  of  a  view  and  locating  just 
there,  whenever  possible,  their  hotels  and  re- 
sorts. The  apparent  inaccessibility  of  a  pros- 
pect seems  to  have  no  sort  of  discouraging 
influence  upon  them,  for  their  '  funiculars ' 
or  'electrics'  shoot  up  into  the  clouds  if 
need  be,  as  blithely  as  the  birds,  and  the  won- 
der is  that  to  their  enterprise  the  travelers  of 
almost  every  nation  respond,  for  you  find 
nearly  all  of  these  mountain  resorts  crowded 
and  in  some  cases  hopelessly  so;  and  the 
crowds  that  push  up  for  views  alone  are 
amazing.  These  last  days  will  slip  away 
swiftly  I  believe,  for  I  keep  up  a  kind  of 
routine  that  helps  to  lubricate  the  flight  of 
the  hours.  To  think  that  I  can  say  *  next 
week'  I  sail  and  shall  soon  be  saying  'this 


326      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

week '  and  '  to-morrow ' !  It's  a  sort  of  sus- 
pended animation  just  now,  but  I  shall  really 
live  soon,  God  willing. 

"  I  am  distressed  to  learn  that  G.  .  .  .  has 
been  '  rejected '  in  Tech.  That  is  the  word 
they  use  in  reporting  on  his  exam  and  it  is  a 
bad  one.  I  shall  cable  to-day  to  inquire 
whether  he  will  be  refused  another  chance  to 
qualify.  The  truth  is  that  G.  .  .  .  fooled 
away  his  chance  to  recover  from  his  poor 
work  in  his  '  preliminaries '  during  the  au- 
tumn term,  when  he  set  about  doing  the  same 
old  evasive  and  tricky  things  instead  of  bon- 
ing right  down  to  business.  It  is  a  most  clear 
and  sorrowful  illustration  of  the  perils  of  half- 
heartedness  and  slippery  methods." 

On  September  second  he  wrote  to  Mrs. 
Raymond  from  Lake  George: 

"  On  Wednesday  last  I  returned  to  the  be- 
loved Lake  with  Marion,  who  had  met  me 
on  my  arrival  in  New  York  the  preceding  day, 
by  the  good  ship  '  Kaiser  Wilhelm  II.' 

"  Our  voyage  of  six  days  was  happily  un- 
eventful, and  the  only  incidents  were  those  of 
good  fellowship  with  two  or  three  fine  spirits 
I  was  glad  to  meet  on  sea  or  shore. 

"  After  my  Nauheim  '  cure '  I  went  to 
Lucerne  and  Burgenstock  to  be  '  cured  of  the 
cure/  passing  a  day  in  Paris  and  three  days 
in  London,  where  I  saw  the  .  .  ,'s  before 
sailing  from  Southampton. 

'  The  best  is  yet  to  be '  according  to  the 
foreign  doctors'  predictions,  who  assure  me 


FINAL  ACHIEVEMENTS  327 

with  the  same  confidence  that  '  Rough  on 
Rats '  reassures  the  intending  purchaser  that 
the  rats  do  not  die  in  the  house,  but  after 
four  or  five  months  (during  which  the  cor- 
oner may  get  in  his  work)  I  shall  realize  how 
great  is  the  benefit  I  have  derived  from  the 
baths.  I  do,  seriously  speaking,  expect  good 
results,  whereof  I  have  as  yet  observed  only 
slight  intimations. 

"  I  have  the  great  consolation  that  I  have 
done  the  best  I  have  known  to  regain  my 
health,  and  I  shall  continue  to  be  a  law- 
abiding  member  of  the  Commonwealth." 

Back  of  the  cursory  mention  of  the  visit 
in  London,  lies  a  very  characteristic  incident 
which  is  best  told  in  the  words  of  the  gen- 
tleman concerned  in  it.  This  is  the  letter  he 
wrote  to  John  Meigs  on  September  2ist,  1907: 

"  My  dear  Man, 

"  There  has  not  been  a  day,  nor  many  hours 
of  any  day,  since  we  said  good-by,  that  I 
have  not  been  thinking  of  you.  Many  letters 
have  I  written  to  you  in  my  head.  And  yet, 
knowing  how  it  is  between  us,  I  calmly  let 
the  writing  wait  its  time  and  occasion. 

"  I  do  not  suppose  I  can  write  to  you  the 
thanks  that  I  could  not  speak.  But  I  can  tell 
you  now  perhaps  better  than  I  had  time  to 
tell  you  in  your  flash  through  London,  what 
it  was  you  did  for  me.  In  itself  the  material 
help  you  brought  me  was  of  even  greater 
benefit  than  it  could,  perhaps,  have  been  at 


328      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

any  other  time.  I  was  not  only  hard  up,  but 
tired  out  with  working  too  long  and  with  too 
little  encouragement,  in  need  of  a  holiday, 
and  really  even  more  out  of  health  than  I 
realized  when  I  saw  you.  Thanks  to  you, 
I  have  had  the  holiday^  with  an  easy  mind, 
and  am,  in  spite  of  the  operation  performed 
about  a  week  after  you  sailed,  very  much 
better  for  it.  I  am  back  in  town  again,  and 
just  settling  back  to  work,  and  my  mind  is 
very  full  of  you,  and  of  the  something  over 
and  above  all  that  I  have  tried  to  express 
above,  that  you  have  done  for  me.  I  want 
to  see  whether  I  can  tell  you  what  it 
was. 

"You  brought  to  me,  then,  a  wonderful 
proof  of  the  permanence  and  the  indestructi- 
bility of  human  friendship.  That  a  man  should 
come,  as  you  came,  to  see  whether  I  needed 
him,  remembering  me  so  intimately  after 
twelve  or  thirteen  years  broken  only  by  one 
meeting;  that  the  almost  schoolboyish  delight 
of  seeing  my  old  chief  again  so  unexpectedly 
should  be  so  soon  merged  in  the  sense  of  un- 
broken and  protective  friendship — these  and 
certain  other  aspects  of  the  episode  which  I 
hinted  at  in  talking  to  you,  have  given  me 
an  experience  which  I  shall  carry  with  me 
always  as  a  possession  invaluable. 

"  You  have  given  me  courage  for  my  work ; 
if  I  succeed  in  making  it  better  work,  I  shall 
owe  thanks  to  you  for  that  also. 

"  There !  I  haven't  half  said  what  I  wanted 
to  say.  But  perhaps  you  will  read  some  sense 
in  the  words." 


FINAL  ACHIEVEMENTS  329 

With  the  breaking  of  his  health  Meigs  be- 
gan to  look  ahead  to  the  time  when  the  guid- 
ance of  the  school  must  pass  into  other  hands ; 
and  he  set  himself  to  build  up  the  organization 
which  could  assume  control,  when  necessity 
came,  without  break  or  change  in  the  work 
and  spirit  of  the  school.  It  was  his  hope  that 
his  son,  Dwight  R.  Meigs,  should  succeed  him 
in  the  headmastership — a  hope  which  has 
since  come  true.  But  meanwhile,  in  the  long 
absence  which  his  illness  caused,  the  school 
was  in  the  charge  of  an  Executive  Committee 
of  the  most  experienced  and  trusted  masters. 

From  Florida,  where  he  and  Mrs.  Meigs 
had  gone  for  a  little  while  in  February,  1908, 
he  wrote  to  one  of  the  masters,  Mr.  Judson: 

"  I  feel  worse  than  you  can  quite  know  to 
miss  all  of  this,  which  is  as  the  breath  of  life 
to  me — the  return  of  the  old  fellows — not  to 
speak,  but  merely  to  be  at  the  old  school 
where  so  many  of  us  have  suffered  so  much 
and  perhaps  been  made  stronger  by  it. 

"  You  are  a  prophet  of  good  tidings,  indeed, 
and  I  rejoice,  and  at  the  same  moment  groan 
in  spirit,  to  learn  that  the  reunion  promises 
so  well. 

"  I  shall  write  C.  ...  S.  ...  in  regard 
to  the  Sheppard  Testimonial  from  the  old 
boys  as  a  part  of  the  general  reception  in  his 
honor  at  Commencement.  The  supreme  and 
crucial  matter  to  secure  is  such  absolute 


330      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

secrecy  as  will  give  to  the  dear  man  the 
greatest  surprise  of  his  life.  This  can  be 
insured  if  at  the  outset  the  importance  is 
laid  heavily  upon  the  conscience  of  the 
Alumni.  .  .  . 

"If  you  find  it  agreeable  to  have  Dwight 
named  on  the  Executive  Committee,  as  a 
connecting  link,  I  shall  be  glad,  but  you  will 
treat  this  suggestion  in  confidence  and  rely 
upon  my  appreciation  of  any  objection  thereto 
that  may  appear." 

And  again,  a  few  days  after  Washington's 
Birthday: 

"  It  was  just  like  you,  I  am  happy  and 
proud  to  say,  to  sit  down  on  Sunday  and 
write  me  of  the  great  event,  while  you  were 
still  dizzy  and  weary  from  the  whirl  of  the 
preparations  and  the  achievement  itself. 

"  It  may  sound  like  special  pleading  but, 
believe  me,  this  is,  at  least,  but  the  spirit  of 
our  convictions  that  the  reunion  of  1908  will 
prove  to  be  the  most  significant  of  all  the 
delightful  and  blessed  like  occasions  we  have 
reason  to  remember  with  grateful  and  loving 
hearts.  The  inauguration  of  a  new  type  of 
fellowship  between  the  Alumni,  the  School, 
and  the  Masters,  with  the  personal  element, 
that  has  perhaps  too  much,  through  no  con- 
scious design  or  purpose  of  Mrs.  John's  and 
mine,  pervaded  the  atmosphere,  suspended  if 
not  suppressed,  is  a  consummation  devoutly 
to  be  wished  for  and  to  be  thankful  for  now 
that  it  is  accomplished. 


FINAL  ACHIEVEMENTS  331 

"We  recognize  that  there  have  been,  and 
are  and  will  be,  under  the  compulsion  of  this 
deeper,  impersonal  spirit  of  devotion  to  the 
school,  other  torch  bearers  than  ourselves, 
whom  we  bid  hail  and  haste." 

And  at  the  same  time  he  wrote  to  his  sister: 

"  Feb.  28,  1908. 
"My  beloved  Elizabeth: 

"  I  believe  that  the  new  fellowship  of  the 
old  fellows,  the  school  and  the  Masters,  will 
signify  great  things  in  the  future,  for  one  day 
those  of  us  who  like  you  and  me  have  been  at 
the  forefront  from  the  beginning,  and  Marion 
who  seems  always  to  have  been  there,  despite 
the  imperfect  years  before  she  joined  us,  will 
be  shadowy  memories — if  our  lives'  prayers 
and  efforts  be  not  in  vain;  and  it  is  well  to 
give  others  a  growing  sense  of  their  custo- 
dianship and  adequacy  therefor." 

Through  these  years  the  religious  elements 
in  John  Meigs'  nature  were  growing  more 
and  more  deep  and  earnest.  Out  of  a  great 
struggle  he  was  seeking  strength.  The  disease 
which  was  attacking  his  heart  brought  him 
periods  of  torturing  pain,  and  sometimes  made 
him  irritable  beyond  his  immediate  control. 
He  recognized  this  irritability  in  himself  with 
acute  distress,  and  sought  with  pathetic 
eagerness  to  overcome  it.  Once  at  evening 
prayers  in  the  schoolroom  he  had  prayed  in 
a  more  than  usually  self-revealing  way — 


332      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

pouring  out  the  torrent  of  his  own  appeal  for 
patience  and  strength.  As  he  came  down  the 
aisle  when  prayers  were  over,  his  quick  eye 
caught  a  boy  in  some  petty  misdemeanor, 
and  he  loosed  upon  him  instantly  a  perfect 
thunderbolt  of  scornful  indignation.  "  How 
could  you  have  done  that  just  after  praying 
for  patience?"  one  of  his  family  asked  him; 
and  he  answered,  "  Why  should  I  pray  for  it 
except  that  I  need  it  terribly?" 

Every  morning  he  used  to  go — as  indeed 
for  many  years  he  had  been  doing — into  his 
study  before  breakfast  to  read  his  Bible  and 
"  Daily  Strength  for  Daily  Needs," — to  pray, 
to  think,  and  to  be  alone  with  God.  This 
one  prayer,  particularly — a  prayer  of  Thomas 
Arnold's — he  always  used.  He  had  a  copy 
of  it  between  the  leaves  of  his  "  Daily 
Strength,"  and  the  paper  on  which  it  is  writ- 
ten is  worn  and  frayed. 

"  O  gracious  Father,  keep  me  through  Thy 
holy  spirit;  keep  my  heart  soft  and  tender 
now  in  health  and  amid  the  bustle  of  the 
world;  keep  the  thought  of  Thyself  present 
to  me  as  my  Father  in  Jesus  Christ;  and  keep 
alive  in  me  a  spirit  of  love  and  meekness  to 
all  men,  that  I  may  be  at  once  gentle  and 
active  and  firm.  O  strengthen  me  to  bear 
pain,  or  sickness,  or  danger,  or  whatever  Thou 
shalt  be  pleased  to  lay  upon  me,  as  Christ's 
soldier  and  servant;  and  let  my  faith  over- 


FINAL  ACHIEVEMENTS  333 

come  the  world  daily.  Perfect  and  bless  the 
work  of  Thy  spirit  in  the  hearts  of  all  Thy 
people,  and  may  Thy  kingdom  come,  and 
Thy  will  be  done  in  earth  as  it  is  in  heaven. 
I  pray  for  this,  and  for  all  that  Thou  seest  me 
to  need,  for  Jesus  Christ's  sake.  Amen." 

Characteristic  also  of  his  thought  and  feel- 
ing is  the  hymn  which  he  always  gave  out 
as  one  of  those  for  the  boys  to  sing  in  the 
chapel  on  Sunday  evenings.  Invariably  in 
his  later  years  the  singing  closed  with  this. 
Through  the  four  verses  which  he  loved  best 
it  was  as  though  his  own  prayer  were  throb- 
bing up  to  God: 

At  even,  ere  the  sun  was  set, 
The  sick,  O  Lord,  around  Thee  lay; 

O  in  what  divers  pains  they  met ! 
O  with  what  joy  they  went  away ! 

Once  more  'tis  eventide,  and  we, 
Oppressed  with  various  ills  draw  near; 

What  if  Thy  form  we  cannot  see? 
We  know  and  feel  that  Thou  art  here. 

O  Saviour  Christ,  Thou  too  art  Man ; 

Thou  hast  been  troubled,  tempted,  tried; 
Thy  kind  but  searching  glance  can  scan 

The  very  wounds  that  shame  would  hide. 

Thy  touch  has  still  its  ancient  power; 

No  word  from  Thee  can  fruitless  fall ; 
Hear  in  this  solemn  evening  hour, 

And  in  Thy  mercy  heal  us  all. 


334      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

In  the  summer  of  1908,  he  found  it  neces- 
sary to  go  to  Bad  Nauheim  again,  and  from 
Europe  he  writes  home: 

"Nauheim,  July  n,  1908. 
"  Last  Sunday  the  minister  at  the  English 
church  preached  from  the  text  *  Come  unto 
me  all  ye  that  labor/  etc.,  emphasizing  the 
words  '  come/  '  take  '  and  '  learn  '  and  strongly 
presenting  the  idea  that  Christ's  invitation 
was  to  those  willing  to  learn, — not  the 
learned,  as  such,  but  those  who  desired  to 
learn  His  way,  His  will.  It  was  very  simple, 
impressive  and  beautiful;  for  an  English 
churchman  most  unusual  in  its  breadth. 
Christ  came,  he  said,  not  to  found  a  church, 
a  system,  a  theology — but  to  find  souls  will- 
ing to  learn  the  law  of  love,  the  life  of  love." 

"July  26,   1908. 

"  I  have  just  returned  from  the  services  in 
the  German  Parish  Church,  of  the  Lutheran 
stock  which  has  recently  reabsorbed  the  Ger- 
man Reformed  denomination.  It  is  a  good 
sign  and  a  characteristic  sign  of  the  times  I 
believe,  to  find  churches  seeking  union  rather 
than  division.  The  impression  is  abroad  that 
the  German  nation  has  lost  its  great  religious 
motive  and  has  become  rationalistic,  in  the 
extreme.  However  this  may  be,  it  is  stoutly 
contended  that  in  household  and  public  of- 
fices of  religion  the  good  old  ways  are  fol- 
lowed and  revered.  The  church  this  morn- 
ing was  full  and  emergency  seats  had  to  be 


FINAL  ACHIEVEMENTS  335 

provided  for  a  great  many  attendants,  myself 
among  the  number.  The  congregation  was 
more  than  ordinarily  reverent,  the  preacher 
given  to  no  declamatory  frenzy,  but  quiet, 
reasonable  and  comforting,  his  voice  sooth- 
ing rather  than  stimulating,  though  I  saw 
only  one  aged  man  in  the  gallery  succumb 
to  the  honeyed  tones  of  his  voice.  The  vol- 
ume of  sound  during  the  singing  of  the  hymns 
was  glorious  and  impressive.  I  have  hitherto 
attended  the  English  church  but  am  glad  to 
have  made  the  change  as  an  experience  out 
of  the  common.  Somehow  it  is  much  more 
stirring  and  gets  hold  of  one's  imagination  to 
hear  the  service  in  another  tongue  and  to  feel 
that  the  '  earth  is  the  Lord's  and  the  fullness 
thereof;  that  we  are  all  brethren  and  that 
He  is  the  Father  of  us  all.  ...  A  week 
hence  when  we  leave,  we  shall  have  only 
grateful  thoughts  of  our  stay  here,  the  trifling 
untoward  incidents  being  quickly  and  finally 
expunged  from  our  memory  in  the  conscious- 
ness of  the  larger  benefits." 

In  September  he  wrote  to  Mrs.  Raymond: 

"  I  feel  more  like  my  old  self,  physically, 
than  I  have  felt  for  three  or  four  years"; 
yet  within  two  months  he  had  to  leave  The 
Hill  again.  His  two  daughters  had  gone  to 
Italy  to  be  in  school  there  for  the  winter; 
their  mother  was  to  join  them;  and  it  seemed 
best  that  he  should  go,  too,  for  at  least  some 
of  the  months  of  the  school  session,  to  the 


336      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

work   of   which    he    found   himself   unequal. 
Writing   ahead   from   the    steamer   to   his 
daughters,  he  says: 

"  I'm  taking  advantage  of  the  quiet  hours 
before  luncheon  to  send  you  a  line  to  tell  you 
that  we  are  approaching  the  coast  of  Ireland, 
though  we  can't  smell  the  turf  or  the  pigs 
in  their  ancestral  castles.  .  .  . 

"As  we  were  leaving  The  Hill  the  fellows 
gathered  in  the  West  Quadrangle,  sang  'A 
thousand  hands  have  labored  long '  and 
cheered  us  out  of  sight.  At  singing  last 
Sunday  night  I  spoke  briefly  and  simply  to 
the  fellows  about  our  going  and  their  staying 
to  hold  high  the  common  standard  of  our 
common  love,  the  old  school.  They  gave  a 
very  sympathetic  and,  to  me,  touching  hear- 
ing, and  we  left  home  the  next  morning  per- 
suaded that  both  men  and  boys  would  do 
their  best  to  guard  their  '  City  on  the 
Hill.' " 

From  Italy  his  thoughts  turned  back  to 
The  Hill  and  to  all  those  who  were  part  of  its 
fellowship.  In  December  he  wrote  this  letter 
to  be  read  in  the  Gymnasium  at  the  Christmas 
gathering  of  all  the  servants  and  employees: 

"  Florence,  Italy, 

Dec.  loth,  1908. 
"Dear  Friends: 

"  Mrs.  John  and  I  want  you  to  know  that 
we  are  thinking  of  you  all  to-night  and  wish- 


FINAL  ACHIEVEMENTS  337 

ing  you,  from  the  bottom  of  our  hearts,  a 
Merry  Christmas  and  a  Happy  New  Year. 

"  It  is  very  easy  and  delightful  for  us  to 
imagine  just  how  you  all  are  gathered  to- 
night in  the  old  Gymnasium  at  The  Hill, 
though  hard  for  you  to  fancy  us  in  far-away 
Florence,  about  two  hundred  miles  north  of 
Rome. 

"  Strange  as  it  may  seem  we  feel  somehow 
at  home,  in  a  small  degree,  at  least,  for 
Dwight  and  Margaret  and  Marion  are  with 
us,  or  near  by;  and  you  may  be  sure  that  our 
talk  is  very  often  of  you  and  of  what  you  are 
doing  and  saying  and  thinking. 

"We  know  that  you  are,  as  ever,  doing 
what  you  can  to  keep  things  going  finely  in 
our  absence,  for  on  you  depends  so  much  that 
no  other  helpers  can  possibly  do;  we  believe, 
too,  that  you  are  saying  and  thinking  kind 
and  helpful  things  of  each  other — for  without 
this  sympathy  that  we  all  need,  life  is  a  poor 
and  pitiable  thing,  and  you  and  we  believe 
that  it  can  be  made  a  joyous  and  blessed  priv- 
ilege by  our  exercise  of  an  unselfish  and 
kindly  spirit  in  thought  and  speech  and  con- 
duct. 

"•I  have  told  you  so  often  that  you  must 
weary  of  hearing,  that  we  are  all  members 
one  of  another,  and  that  your  fidelity  to  us, 
and  our  fidelity  to  you  alone  makes  our  com- 
mon work  possible  and  worth  while.  I  still 
feel  this  to  be  true,  and  more  than  ever  true, 
and  know  that,  as  you  are  reminded  of  us, 
so  far  away  from  you  all,  you  will  each  one 
echo  our  simple  and  affectionate  prayer  that 


338      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

we  may  all  be  led  in  the  coming  year  by  the 
Father  of  us  all  into  a  more  perfect  service  to 
Him  and  to  each  other. 

"  I  have  asked  Mr.  Hoffer  to  read  you  these 
friendly  words  of  Christmas  greeting;  and  as 
Miss  Elizabeth  and  he  take  you  by  the  hand, 
as  Mrs.  John  and  I  have  been  so  glad  to  do 
these  many  years,  please  remember  that  the 
children  and  we,  in  far-off  beautiful  Florence, 
are  bearing  you  in  grateful  and  faithful 
memory,  as  we  recall  our  many  years  of 
fellowship  and  friendship  at  '  The  Hill.' 
"  Yours  faithfully, 

"John  Meigs." 

The  time  in  Florence  was  a  very  special 
joy  to  him,  because  "  Mrs.  John "  was  there, 
and  both  his  daughters,  and  Dwight  came 
from  Oxford  where  he  had  been  studying,  to 
make  the  circle  complete.  To  John  Meigs' 
affectionate  heart,  this  companionship  with 
the  ones  he  loved  best,  apart  from  the  pressure 
of  distracting  responsibilities,  was  a  supreme 
satisfaction.  He  delighted  also  in  the  beauty 
and  romance  of  Florence,  through  the  streets 
and  art  galleries  of  which  he  went  with  lei- 
surely appreciation— and  particularly  into  all 
the  places  where  he  could  trace  the  footsteps 
of  Dante,  who  long  had  been  one  of  his  high 
admirations. 

In  Europe  he  had  the  wider  opportunity  to 
do  what  he  loved  to  do  also  at  home — roam 


FINAL  ACHIEVEMENTS  339 

about  in  old  book-stores  and  other  shops 
where  he  might  pick  up  the  curious  and  inter- 
esting things  he  was  continually  collecting. 
He  gathered  from  time  to  time  many  exceed- 
ingly beautiful  old  prints,  rare  autograph  let- 
ters and  other  papers,  some  of  which  he  gave 
to  his  friends  and  others  of  which  he  hung  on 
the  walls  of  his  study  at  The  Hill.  He  pur- 
sued, from  place  to  place,  and  finally  secured 
and  gave  to  "  Mrs.  John "  on  one  of  their 
anniversaries  that  which  to  them  both,  with 
their  particular  love  of  the  poet's  work,  was 
a  thing  precious  beyond  price — the  complete 
original  manuscript  of  Browning's  "  Dramatis 
Personae."  He  had  a  most  unusual  collection 
of  Lowestoft  and  luster  ware,  brown,  pink 
and  silver, — and  old  blue  china.  The  antique 
shops  in  Pottstown,  richly  stored  with  colonial 
furniture,  were  one  of  his  unfailing  resources 
of  distraction  and  refreshment  when  he  was 
tired  with  the  pressure  of  the  day's  work 
at  The  Hill.  When  he  went  abroad,  he  found 
his  rest  and  pleasure  often  in  the  same  way 
of  exploring  places  where  beautiful  and  quaint 
things  were  to  be  found.  And,  as  Mr.  Robert 
E.  Speer,  who  knew  him  in  a  long  and  inti- 
mate fellowship,  has  written :  "  His  love  of 
beautiful  things  was  inevitably  associated  with 
his  truth.  ...  It  was  good  taste  not  for  its 
own  sake,  or  thinned  out  into  trifling  selfish- 


340      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

ness.  Everything  in  life  for  him  was  for 
some  uses,  and  these  uses  were  the  ends  of 
love  and  character  building,  and  the  making 
of  people,  and  the  sweetening  of  life." 

After  three  months  in  Florence,  he  turned 
homeward  again,  writing  to  one  of  the  mas- 
ters :  "  I  shall  return  with  eager  and  grate- 
ful heart  to  do  whatever  I  can  for  our  better 
service,  and  rejoice  to  anticipate  meeting  you 
all  to  whom  so  much  of  gratitude  and  love  is 
due  for  your  loyal  and  devoted  fellowship." 

To  Mrs.  Meigs,  who  remained  in  Florence, 
he  wrote  from  Naples : 

"  February  22,  1909. 

"  We  have  just  passed  Corsica  whose  great 
son  held  Europe  at  bay  for  his  few  fitful  but 
mighty  years.  I  cannot  forbear  to  think  more 
charitably  of  Napoleon  for  the  part  he  has 
had  in  making  modern  Italy  possible." 

"  February  23,  1909. 

"  I  have  just  returned  from  a  few  hours' 
visit  to  the  city,  the  '  Deutschland '  having 
reached  Naples  at  ten  o'clock  in  a  blizzard, 
the  first  snow  they  have  had  in  many  years. 
The  mountains  about  the  bay,  especially 
Vesuvius,  are  very  lovely  in  their  Mardi  Gras 
decorations  of  white,  and  it  looks  as  if  to- 
morrow's sun  would  shine  clear  and  strong. 
.  .  .  The  memories  of  those  three  months 
in  Florence  will  always  abide  with  me  and 
stir  an  ever  deepening  sense  of  gratitude  to 


FINAL  ACHIEVEMENTS  341 

God  for  His  goodness  in  making  possible  our 
common  experience  of  uncommon  mercies." 

And  to  his  daughters  from  the  "  Deutsch- 
land  "  as  he  neared  New  York: 


"  At  half-past  six  A.  M.  we  are  making  our 
way  up  '  Ambrose  Channel '  to  New  York, 
hoping  to  dock  between  nine  and  twenty-four 
o'clock,  so  to  speak.  .  .  .  Yesterday  after- 
noon a  wireless  from  The  Hill  was  handed 
me  to  this  effect — '  Pottstown,  Pa.,  March  4th, 
John  Meigs — We  await  your  coming  with 
joyful  anticipation — The  Hill  School  Com- 
mittee/ 

"  You  can  imagine  how  happy  I  was  to  re- 
ceive that  message,  and  how  it  warmed  the 
cockles  of  my  old  heart  to  have  the  fellows 
think  of  sending  it  out  to  sea  to  assure  me 
they  were  glad  I  was  coming  back.  It  helps 
not  a  little  to  make  my  home-going  very 
much  easier  .  .  .  and  only  deepens  my  de- 
sire to  signify  to  the  fellows,  one  and  all,  more 
than  I  have  ever  been  able  to  in  bygone  days. 
For  this  I  shall  strive  in  season  and  out  of 
season." 

Meanwhile  in  Pottstown  eager  preparations 
were  being  made  to  receive  him,  not  only  by 
the  men  and  boys  of  the  school,  but  by  the 
townspeople  also.  A  public  invitation  by  the 
Burgess  and  the  Town  Council  called  all 
the  citizens  to  meet  at  a  given  hour  at  the 


342       THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

Opera  House  and  thence  to  march  to  The  Hill 
for  a  reception  which  had  been  arranged  for 
his  coming  home. 
Thus  he  tells  of  what  he  found: 

"  The  Hill,  March  8,  1909. 

"As  we  neared  the  pier  Friday  morning 
last  at  10  o'clock,  I  saw  the  four  ardent  faces 
of  E.  .  .  .  and  M.  .  .  .  and  H.  .  .  .  and 
G.  .  .  .  smiling  their  welcome  and  gladden- 
ing my  heart  to  the  core.  After  I  had  quickly 
finished  with  the  customs  officer,  I  disposed 
of  the  luggage,  coming  on  to  Pottstown  by 
the  train,  arriving  at  5:15.  You  can  imagine 
how  our  tongues  flew  for  130  miles  or  more. 
As  we  approached  the  Chapel  I  was  quite 
overcome  to  see  the  Quad  decorated  as  for 
our  great  games,  and  banners,  flags  and  pen- 
nants over  the  windows  and  on  the  walls  and 
the  whole  school  drawn  up  in  the  Quad  cheer- 
ing and  singing  until  I  felt  like  sinking  into 
the  ground. 

"  I  said  just  a  few  words  of  grateful  affec- 
tion and  they  returned  to  their  classes.  On 
coming  into  the  study  I  found  it  decorated 
with  exquisite  flowers  from  many  of  my 
friends  and  at  supper  on  my  table  three  great 
vases  of  Killarney  roses  from  the  Sixth  Form. 

"  B.  .  .  .  invited  me  to  take  his  place  at 
prayers  but  I  declined  and  he  led  as  usual, 
giving  out  the  School  Hymn  and  595.  After 
prayers  I  went  up  to  the  desk  and  told  the 
fellows  '  off-hand '  something  of  my  travels 
and  experiences  and  expressed  my  affectionate 


FINAL  ACHIEVEMENTS  343 

appreciation  of  their  thoughtfulness  in  cabling 
and  greeting  my  return  so  as  to  make  my 
home-coming,  without  you,  so  much  less 
difficult. 

"  At  a  little  after  eight  o'clock  Mr.  H.  .  .  . 
came  into  the  study  and  said  some  friends 
were  down  in  the  Gym  and  would  like  to  see 
me.  On  arriving  there,  much  to  my  conster- 
nation, I  found  very  much  such  a  state  of 
affairs  as  the  accompanying  papers  describe. 
You  will,  of  course,  absolve  me  from  the 
imputation  of  most  of  the  sheer  drivel  that 
the  newspapers  report.  But  I  was  over- 
whelmed by  this  manifestation  of  the  towns- 
people's interest  in  my  return,  as  you  can  well 
understand. 

"  The  Gym  was  filled  up  by  the  release  of 
the  boys  from  study  hour  and  there  was  high 
carnival  for  a  little  time,  to  which  masters, 
some  of  their  wives  and  the  boys  contributed 
their  loving  part.  .  .  .  I  go  to  New  York  to 
attend  the  Union  Seminary  Directors'  meet- 
ing to-morrow  but  intend  to  go  slowly,  gen- 
erally, and  to  leave  the  school  matters  for 
this  term  in  the  good  hands  that  have  con- 
ducted them  so  splendidly  during  my  absence. 
Everything  and  everybody  are  in  the  best 
spirit.  It  has  been  worth  while  to  abdicate 
for  these  past  months  in  order  merely  to  see 
how  efficient,  harmonious  and  co-operative 
has  been  the  spirit  of  all.  The  Sixth  Form, 
below  last  year  in  scholarship,  has  been  great 
in  its  desire  and  effort  to  serve  the  school  in 
a  large  way. 

"The  way  in  which  the  fellows  have  been 


344      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

coming  in  to  see  me  on  all  kinds  of  business 
has  been  a  great  delight  and  comfort  to  my 
soul,  as  you  well  know." 

In  one  of  the  Pottstown  papers  was  this 
editorial : 

"The  welcome  which  was  tendered  Dr. 
John  Meigs,  the  headmaster  of  The  Hill 
School,  on  his  return  from  a  tour  of  Europe 
last  evening,  was  a  tribute  to  Pottstown's 
representative  citizen  that  was  as  hearty  as 
it  was  spontaneous.  Surely  no  other  occasion 
could  have  brought  so  many  of  Pottstown's 
people  together  for  such  a  testimonial  to  a 
returning  citizen.  There  have  been  other  occa- 
sions when  citizens  of  Pottstown  have  re- 
turned from  abroad,  after  longer  stays  than 
Dr.  Meigs  made,  but  there  was  no  outpouring 
of  the  residents  of  the  town  to  do  honor. 

"And  Dr.  Meigs  is  deserving  of  all  the 
honors  that  may  be  shown  him.  No  other 
citizen  of  Pottstown  has  done  so  much  to 
make  Pottstown  a  better  place  in  which  to 
live  than  he.  No  other  citizen  has  so  gener- 
ously stepped  forward  to  aid  all  enterprises 
which  had  for  their  objects  the  welfare  of  the 
borough.  No  other  citizen  has  aided  so  gener- 
ously the  poor  and  the  afflicted  in  times  of 
distress.  In  fact,  Dr.  Meigs  has  earned  the 
title  of  Pottstown's  representative  citizen  not 
so  much  because  he  craved  the  title,  but  be- 
cause his  fellow  citizens  felt  that  he  deserved 
it. 

"  The  loving  cup  that  was  presented  to  Dr. 


FINAL  ACHIEVEMENTS  345 

Meigs  last  evening  was  an  evidence  of  the 
esteem  in  which  he  is  held  by  his  neighbors 
here  in  Pottstown,  but  no  mere  silver  token 
of  affection  could  adequately  express  the  love 
with  which  the  people  of  the  borough  regard 
the  headmaster  of  The  Hill  School.  They 
know  of  his  many  acts  of  charity,  although 
they  were  supposed  to  have  been  done  by 
stealth,  and  they  rejoice  that  Dr.  Meigs  has 
returned  to  Pottstown  benefited  in  health  by 
his  sojourn  abroad." 

Such  was  the  way  his  townsfolk  expressed 
their  opinion  of  John  Meigs.  But  there  hap- 
pens to  exist  a  letter  which  transmits  the 
deliciously  frank  judgment  of  one  of  the  boys 
about  him,  and  the  force  of  which  is  rather 
heightened,  than  otherwise,  by  its  decidedly 
unconventional  language.  The  boy  was  at 
The  Hill  when  Meigs  came  back  in  1909.  The 
year  after  that  he  went  to  one  of  the  eastern 
colleges,  and  it  was  from  there  he  wrote  to 
his  father.  The  father  copied  part  of  his 
letter  and  sent  it  to  Dr.  Meigs. 

Thus  it  ran:  "The  fellows  here  are  fine, 
though  of  course,  not  as  nice  as  The  Hill 
crowd — none  could  be — but  they  are  mighty 
fine,  as  near  as  possible  to  the  '  Old  Guard/ 
Personally,  I  don't  think  much  of  President 
A.  .  .  .,  that  is,  as  president  of  a  college, 


346      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

tho'  he  seems  well  enough.  Still  he  don't 
seem  to  me  to  have  the  '  pep '  in  him,  and 
alongside  of  John  Meigs  would  look  like  a 
pin  in  a  haystack." 

Then  the  father  adds :  "  Youth's  ideals,  you 
know,  are  the  strongest  and  most  lasting; 
hence,  well  grounded,  operate  greatly  in  shap- 
ing the  future  life.  And  in  my  opinion  just 
such  schools  as  '  The  Hill '  are  needed  to  start 
boys  well,  giving  the  foundation  on  which  to 
build  the  character,  and  stability  with  which 
to  fight  and  conquer  the  important  battles  the 
future  holds  for  all.  The  stamp  of  The  Hill 
is  evident  in  all  the  colleges  I  know,  and  hear 
of;  and  you  are  the  die." 

In  his  own  letters  to  Mrs.  Meigs  in  Europe 
he  writes: 

"March  n,  1909. 

"  Here,  everything  is  swinging  forward  to- 
ward the  close  of  the  term.  The  attitude  of 
men  and  boys  is  splendid,  and  I  am  more  and 
more  gratified  as  I  probe  matters  more  deeply. 
I  have  had,  this  afternoon,  conferences  with 
the  Sixth  Form  Committee,  on  the  proposed 
permanent  constitution  for  the  Sixth  Form 
and  the  Dance  Committee — I  have  advised 
them  to  simplify  the  arrangements  as  far  as 
possible,  reducing  still  further  the  cost  of  the 
festivities,  and  the  committees  sympathize 
with  my  suggestion,  though  they  will,  of 


FINAL  ACHIEVEMENTS  347 

course,   have  to  be  submitted  to   the   entire 
Form  for  consideration. 

"  Conferences  with  the  heads  of  depart- 
ments have  been  going  on,  ever  since  my  re- 
turn, and  I  have  had  good  results  from  these 
heart-to-heart  talks.  ...  It  is  not  hard  to 
smile  and  smile  as  I  go  about  among  the  boys 
and  men  and  household  generally.  They  are 
all  so  cordial  that  I  begin  to  believe  they  are 
glad  to  have  me  back;  and  I  have  been  both 
touched  and  amused  to  hear  of  the  queer 
manifestations  of  their  feelings.  The  other 
day,  after  I  had  said  grace,  one  of  the  young- 
sters at  G.  .  .  .  's  table  said — *  Gee,  don't  it 
sound  good  to  hear  that ! ' ' 

"  We  had  a  most  interesting  visit  from  the 
Hampton  Singers,  one  of  the  boys  we  have 
been  educating,  Major  Moton  and  Dr.  Frissell. 
The  doctor  let  himself  out  on  broad  educa- 
tional questions,  and  gave  me  lots  to  think  of 
in  terms  of  our  opportunities  in  educating 
young  men  to  assume  their  rightful  burdens 
in  the  amelioration  of  social  conditions — 
strangely  enough  the  very  matter  that  has 
been  most  on  my  mind  since  I  have  returned 
home. 

"  He  spoke  in  noble  terms  of  the  school, 
its  work  and  position  guaranteeing  the  suc- 
cess of  any  definite  measures  we  might  under- 
take to  train  our  boys  for  the  highest  type  of 
citizenship.  We  must  have  men  for  this,  a 
man  at  least,  and  we  must  have  him  soon. 

"  I  have  really  been  deeply  touched  by  the 
many  expressions  that  have  come  to  me  since 


348       THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

my  return,  giving  me  quite  a  heartening,  as 
if  I  did  signify  to  the  boys,  as  well  as  to 
their  parents,  in  a  personal  way. 

"  M.  C.  was  here  for  a  few  hours  on  his 
way  to  New  Haven,  from  Mercersburg,  where 
he  and  another  Yale  man  spoke  on  Sunday. 
I  was  delighted  to  find  him  taking  this  active 
part  in  the  Christian  work  again.  He  looked 
like  a  prince  of  the  blood,  and  I  was  proud 
to  feel  him  a  Hill  School  boy,  after  our  own 
heart. 

"  I  have  never  seen  the  boys  evince  such 
cheerful  courage  under  affliction  as  the  condi- 
tioned boys  do  this  term.  The  spirit  of  the 
school,  through  and  through,  except  in  a  few 
instances,  is  very  fine  and  comforting." 

For  the  third  time,  in  the  summer  of  1909, 
he  went  to  Nauheim,  seeking  the  benefit  of 
the  treatment  there.  His  whole  family  were 
with  him,  Mrs.  Meigs  and  her  two  daughters 
coming  from  Florence,  and  Dwight  from  Ox- 
ford, in  which  places  they  had  been  during 
the  winter. 

He  was  deeply  grieved  and  burdened  as  he 
left  The  Hill  by  a  grave  moral  disloyalty  on 
the  part  of  several  Sixth  Formers  which 
necessitated  their  expulsion  from  the  school. 
He  writes  of  this  to  one  of  the  boys  who  had 
written  to  him: 

"  My  dear  Cameron : 

"  Your  deeply  appreciated  letter  has  reached 
me  here  in  Nauheim.  I  can  hardly  tell  you 


FINAL  ACHIEVEMENTS  349 

how  comforting  your  words  of  sympathy  and 
appreciation  are.  It  was,  and  is,  a  grief  be- 
yond words  to  have  this  matter  come  up  at 
all,  and  especially  so  at  the  very  end  of  the 
year,  when  our  hearts  and  minds  are  so  nat- 
urally pre-occupied  with  the  joys  and  in- 
terests of  the  Sixth  Form,  on  the  very  eve 
of  their  graduation.  It  literally  takes  the 
life  out  of  me,  and  I  am  more  conscious  of 
it  than  ever. 

"  Of  course,  much  of  this  sort  of  thing  is 
done  thoughtlessly,  but  after  so  many  years 
at  The  Hill  one  would  think  that  Sixth  Form 
boys  would  feel  some  sense  of  responsibility. 

"  It  hurts  the  school,  the  moral  conscious- 
ness of  the  younger  boys,  the  families  and 
friends  of  the  fellows  who  are  disciplined, 
who  always  resent  our  action,  no  matter  what 
it  is,  and  thus  creates  an  atmosphere  of  un- 
kindness,  and  often  bitterness,  instead  of  sym- 
pathy, appreciation  and  friendliness.  God 
knows  how  unspeakably  hard  it  always  is  to 
have  to  say  the  final  words,  and  I  shrink 
from  it  more  each  year. 

"  Just  as  I  was  feeling  most  distressed  over 
the  whole  affair,  comes  along  your  blessed 
letter,  for  which  I  cannot  thank  you  ade- 
quately. 

" '  Mrs.  John '  shares  my  sense  of  gratitude, 
and  joins  me  in  love. 

"  You  know  that  she  and  I  came  over  last 
November,  spending  the  months  of  December, 
January  and  February  in  Florence,  near  Mar- 
garet and  Marion,  in  school  there. 

"  I    returned   home   early   in    March,    and 


350      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

'  Mrs.  John  *  continued  in  Florence  until  the 
girls'  school  year  ended,  in  May,  since  which 
time  they  have  been  in  Northern  Italy,  France 
and  England,  joining  Miss  Elizabeth  and  me 
on  our  steamer,  at  Dover,  and  coming  on  to 
Antwerp,  and  after  a  week  of  travel,  largely 
in  Holland,  by  the  girls,  with  their  aunt,  we 
are  here  for  this  month.  At  the  end  of  the 
month,  we  go  to  Switzerland,  for  my  '  after 
cure,'  and  in  August  to  England,  where,  on 
the  last  of  the  month,  Dwight  is  to  be  mar- 
ried." 

During  practically  all  the  session,  begin- 
ning in  the  fall  of  1909,  he  was  at  his  post 
in  the  school,  and  in  the  spring  he  wrote  to 
one  of  his  daughters,  who  was  still  abroad, 
of  the  annual  gathering  of  the  old  boys. 

"This  has  been  the  greatest  reunion  we 
have  ever  had. 

"  Over  seventy  of  the  old  boys  have  been 
back  and  quite  '  rilled  us  up '  with  their  un- 
disguised happiness  at  returning  to  the  school, 
but  we  have  had  more  old  fellows  here  on 
other  occasions.  What  has  given  this  gath- 
ering its  distinction  has  been  the  ardent  en- 
thusiasm of  the  fellows  over  the  present  con- 
dition of  affairs  in  the  school;  its  spirit  was 
never  so  fine,  and  we  all  feel  it  most  keenly. 

"  There  was  a  meeting  yesterday  at  noon 
in  the  '  Gym/  when  several  of  the  Alumni 
spoke,  Bill  Warren  greeting  them  as  presi- 
dent of  the  Sixth  Form,  and  a  noble  poem  by 


FINAL  ACHIEVEMENTS  351 

Herman  Hagedorn  was  read  in  his  absence  by 
Mr.  Bement.  It  was  entitled  'God  and  the 
Warrior/  and  will  be  published  in  the  Record. 
Billy  Bird,  Bert  Alexander,  Wolcott  Hum- 
phrey and  Will  Fincke,  as  president  of  the 
Alumni  Association,  spoke  to  great  effect, 
and  there  were  cheers  and  songs  to  stir  up 
enthusiasm.  In  the  afternoon,  two  Alumni 
nines  played  ball,  and  at  eight  in  the  evening 
the  meeting  of  the  'Ancients'  took  place, 
followed  by  a  dinner  at  nine. 

"  There  has  been  more  close,  intimate  fel- 
lowship this  time  than  ever  before,  and  we  all 
feel  comforted  and  cheered  by  the  great  rally." 

In  the  summer  of  1910,  he  was  at  Lake 
George,  and  in  the  fall  he  came  back  to 
The  Hill  for  what  was  to  prove  the  last 
complete  session  of  his  mastership. 

In  February  of  that  school  year  he  went 
South  with  Mrs.  Meigs  to  Florida,  and  as  he 
turned  his  face  homeward  he  wrote  to  his 
sister  at  The  Hill: 

"Feb.  2ist,  1911. 
"My  beloved  Sister: 

"  I  need  not  tell  you,  but  I  must,  how  grate- 
fully we  have  borne  you  in  our  hearts  and 
minds  these  past  two  weeks  during  which  we 
have  been  able,  owing  to  your  great  and  lov- 
ing devotion,  to  rest  awhile  and  gain  strength, 
I  am  sure,  for  what  awaits  us  in  the  remaining 
weeks  of  this  hard  term.  ... 

"  I  do  not  know  when  I  have  had  a  quieter, 


352      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

more  restful  week  than  the  past  week  has 
been. 

"  Marion  is  getting  out  of  it  all  she  can, 
too ;  we  drive  daily  in  the  sun  for  two  or  three 
hours,  and  walk  in  the  mornings. 

"  I  have  read  four  or  five  novels  to  her 
and  'The  Corsican/  ostensibly  Napoleon's 
diary. 

"Thursday  we  go  to  see  Russ  Bowie  and 
Jean,  remaining  until  Monday  A.  M.,  when 
we  go  to  the  New  Willard,  Washington,  hop- 
ing to  reach  home  Thursday  evening,  March 
2nd.  ..." 

The  visit  of  which  he  speaks  in  the  last  para- 
graph was  to  the  Rectory  of  a  country  parish 
at  the  head  of  the  beautiful  Piedmont  Valley, 
circled  about  by  the  Blue  Ridge  Mountains, 
in  Virginia.  For  two  days  he  rested  there 
and  enjoyed  himself  with  the  light-hearted- 
ness  of  a  boy.  He  was — as  has  been  said — 
under  very  strict  rules  as  to  his  diet,  and  had 
observed  them  for  a  long  time  with  inflexible 
regularity.  So  breakfast  was  made  ready  for 
him  according  to  his  usual  routine.  But  he 
happened  to  be  fascinated  by  the  "batter- 
cakes  "  and  other  unfamiliar  things  which  the 
old  colored  cook  was  sending  in  to  the  rest 
of  the  family  group,  and  in  exuberance  of 
rebellious  spirits,  he  flung  his  diet  to  the 
winds,  and  reveled  for  once  in  whatever  he 
liked,  as  much  as  he  liked.  He  drove  about 


FINAL  ACHIEVEMENTS  353 

the  country  in  a  buggy,  went  to  church  on 
Sunday  and  met  the  people  of  the  neighbor- 
hood, and  everywhere  his  big  presence  ra- 
diated the  warmth  of  his  own  unfeigned  en- 
joyment. 

The  errand  that  took  him  away  somewhat 
earlier  than  he  had  planned  was  characteristic 
of  him.  There  had  been  a  rector  in  a  certain 
church  he  was  familiar  with  who  had  left  that 
church  under  doubtful  circumstances,  and 
had  come  into  one  of  the  dioceses  in  Virginia 
seeking  work  under  its  Bishop.  Dr.  Meigs' 
sensitive  regard  for  the  honor  of  the  Church 
at  large  made  him  feel  he  ought  to  let  the 
Bishop  know  of  the  clergyman's  record;  yet 
his  generous  desire  that  the  man  himself 
might  be  given  the  utmost  consideration  to 
which  he  might  in  any  wise  be  entitled  made 
him  shrink  from  writing  the  bald  facts  in  a 
letter.  So,  though  the  whole  matter  had  no 
claim  upon  him  whatsoever,  he  went  out  of 
his  way  on  a  long  and  tiring  journey  to  meet 
the  Bishop  and  tell  him  face  to  face  the  facts 
in  the  whole  case. 

At  morning  prayers  the  morning  before  he 
left,  he  was  asked  to  read  the  verses  in  Philip- 
pians,  which  he  read  so  often  at  The  Hill 
and  which — to  those  who  had  ever  heard  him 
there — always  thereafter  seemed  to  echo  with 
his  voice.  So  he  read  them: 


354      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

"  Finally,  brethren,  whatsoever  things  are 
true,  whatsoever  things  are  honorable,  what- 
soever things  are  just,  whatsoever  things  are 
pure,  whatsoever  things  are  lovely,  whatso- 
ever things  are  of  good  report,  if  there  be  any 
virtue,  and  if  there  be  any  praise,  think  on 
these  things."  And  so,  from  the  quiet  of  the 
mountains,  he  went  on  his  way,  back  to  the 
work  of  the  school. 

At  Easter,  in  1911,  he  wrote  to  his  daughter 
from  The  Hill: 

"This  blessed  Easter  Day  our  hearts  are 
full  of  gratitude  and  peace  in  the  thought  of 
you,  and  your  participation  with  us  in  all 
that  the  day  typifies. 

"  Heaven  and  earth  are  in  beautiful  har- 
mony and  inspiring  accord:  sunshine  and  an- 
swering blossoms  tell  the  tale  of  the  old  and 
yet  ever  new  miracle  of  nature's  resurrec- 
tion. .  .  . 

"  Dwight  brought  over  the  adorable  baby 
on  Thursday  afternoon,  and  by  this  time,  all 
who  have  seen  her  beauty  and  brightness  are 
groveling  at  her  dainty  feet.  She  seems  to 
realize  how  loving  and  lovely  life  is,  and 
smiles  and  even  laughs  audibly  at  the  con- 
templation of  the  adoring  friends  who  sur- 
round her  at  every  turn.  .  .  . 

"  Dr.  Abbott  is  the  preacher  to-day,  and 
tells  me  his  theme  will  be •'  Immortality ' — a 
great  subject  for  a  great  man,  who,  person- 
ally, is  as  simple  and  loving  as  a  little  child." 


FINAL  ACHIEVEMENTS  355 

Once  again,  and  for  the  last  time,  in  the 
summer  of  1911,  he  went  to  Bad  Nauheim  for 
the  measure  of  strength  which  the  treatment 
there  seemed  to  give  him.  Thus  he  writes 
home: 


"The  first  week  has  passed  fairly  swiftly. 
What  with  the  arrivals  and  departures  of 
acquaintances,  and  the  old  familiar  routine  of 
baths,  walks,  drives,  concerts,  afternoon  teas 
and  passing  glances  at  the  glorified  tennis 
pavilion  and  grounds,  where,  strange  to  say, 
I  do  not  linger  as  of  yore — the  days  seem  to 
fairly  shove  each  other  into  the  gliding 
past.  .  .  . 

"  We  had  a  great  Fourth  of  July  celebra- 
tion, with  ex-President  Diaz,  of  Mexico,  and 
Kossuth,  the  Hungarian  statesman,  son  of  the 
great  Kossuth,  as  '  pieces  de  resistance/  as  the 
French  don't  say;  while  for  murder,  pure  and 
simple,  of  patriotic  songs,  commend  me  to 
the  alleged  German-American  Quartette  of 
Bad  Nauheim,  who  mutilated  everything  in 
sight  or  sound,  and  seemed  to  revel  in  their 
havoc  of  what  true  Americans  are  presumed 
to  hold  most  dear. 

"  Well,  .  .  . ,  these  weeks  will  soon  be 
past,  and  my  face  set  towards  home.  God 
grant  that  in  the  interim  we  may  all  be  kept 
safe  and  at  peace  in  the  assurance  of  ever- 
deepening  love  for  each  other  and  for  Him, 
who  gave  us  to  each  other,  and  will  keep  us 
until  the  end,  which  is  only  a  beginning  of 
diviner  things ! " 


356      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

And  home  again  in  August,  he  wrote  to 
Mrs.  Raymond: 

"  I  returned  home  a  fortnight  ago,  to  find 
the  dear  ones  here  well  and  cheerful.  .  .  . 

"  At  this  dear  anniversary,  all  of  the  blessed 
memories  of  days  that  have  been  and  are, 
and  our  hopes  of  those  that  are  still  to  be, 
enrich  our  souls,  and  give  us  an  ever  new 
sense  of  gladness  and  gratitude  that  we  have 
been  born  into  the  priceless  heritage  of  friend- 
ship with  you  .  .  .  and  those  other  beloveds 
whose  names  are  written  on  high  in  earth 
and  heaven." 

At  the  usual  time  in  September,  school 
opened  with  Meigs  at  his  post.  He  threw 
himself  unrestrainedly  into  the  work  that 
faced  him,  and  did  not  go  away  that  fall — 
as  for  some  years  he  had  been  in  the  habit 
of  doing — for  a  brief  rest  after  the  crowded 
weeks  of  the  boys'  return.  He  was  feeling 
physically  stronger,  and  his  spirits  were  high. 
To  one  of  the  men  whom  he  was  trying  to 
secure  as  a  preacher  in  the  Chapel,  Mr. 
Tweedy,  he  had  written  a  little  before  the 
beginning  of  the  school: 

"My  dear  Friend: 

"I  returned  from  Europe  on  Friday  last, 
having  taken  the  cure  at  Bad  Nauheim, 
greatly  to  my  benefit,  I  believe;  and  my  heart 
has  been  so  invigorated  by  the  baths  that  I 


FINAL  ACHIEVEMENTS  357 

am  stout  enough  in  my  nerve  not  merely  to 
hope,  but  to  expect  you  to  come  to  us  in 
October. 

"  We  want  you,  ma  honey,  and  Mrs.  John 
and  I  will  be  delighted  to  have  a  word  of  en- 
couragement from  you." 

But  soon  the  ominous  attacks  of  his  heart 
returned,  with  increasing  frequency  and  pain- 
fulness.  Early  in  November  it  was  decided 
that  he  should  go  away  to  Atlantic  City; 
and  it  was  hoped  that  a  brief  rest  there  would 
enable  him  to  take  up  his  work  again  with 
recruited  strength. 

On  Sunday,  November  5th,  the  Professor 
went  down  into  his  study  for  a  long  talk  with 
a  gentleman  who  had  come  to  enter  his  boy 
at  The  Hill,  and  with  whom  he  conversed 
about  many  things  in  which  they  were  mu- 
tually interested  in  his  characteristic  eager 
and  happy  vein.  He  did  not  feel  strong 
enough  to  go  to  the  Chapel  service,  but  sat 
at  a  window  looking  out  toward  the  Chapel — 
it  being  a  beautiful,  still  autumn  day — and 
sang  the  hymns  with  the  unseen  congrega- 
tion when  their  music  rolled  across  the  Quad- 
rangle. 

On  Monday,  the  6th,  he  came  down  to 
breakfast,  and  worked  in  his  study  all  the 
morning;  and  the  boys  who  were  at  his  table 
remembered  afterwards  how  full  of  playful- 


358      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

ness  he  was  that  day.  In  the  afternoon  he 
went  to  his  room  to  bed,  for  he  was  to  start 
to  Atlantic  City  the  next  day,  and  he  had 
been  ordered  to  rest.  Perhaps  if  in  the  morn- 
ing he  had  saved  his  strength  when  he  felt 
so  deceptively  well,  the  result  that  followed 
with  such  grave  suddenness  that  night  might 
not  have  been. 

Mrs.  Meigs  had  gone  to  Philadelphia  for 
the  day  to  see  "  Miss  Elizabeth,"  who  was  ill 
in  a  hospital  there.  When  she  reached  home 
about  six  o'clock,  she  found  him  suffering. 
Through  the  evening,  he  was  intermittently 
in  great  pain.  About  ten  o'clock,  when  the 
lights  were  going  out,  and  quiet  was  settling 
over  the  school,  he  cried  suddenly  for  "  Mrs. 
John  "  as  she  crossed  the  room.  When  she 
reached  his  side,  he  had  gone. 

Upon  The  Hill,  as  the  word  spread  in  the 
morning  through  its  halls,  a  silence  fell.  Boys 
and  men  gathered  here  and  there,  looking  at 
each  other  with  stricken  faces.  But  into  that 
silence  came  a  voice — a  voice  which  gathered 
up  into  one  heroic  utterance  all  the  glory  of 
that  faith  in  the  strength  of  which  John  Meigs 
had  lived.  It  was  the  voice  of  her  who,  hav- 
ing known  and  loved  him  best,  knew  best 
what  The  Hill  had  lost,  and  that  also  which 
it  could  never  lose. 

The    night    after    her    husband    and    the 


FINAL  ACHIEVEMENTS  359 

school's  master  died,  she  asked  that  all  the 
boys  assemble  in  the  schoolroom.  There,  in 
the  beautiful  strength  of  her  great  opportu- 
nity, she  met  them  face  to  face.  Twenty-one 
years  before,  when  Edith  died,  he  had  tried 
to  shape  from  his  great  sorrow  a  message  for 
the  boys  he  loved.  So  she  yearned  to  do  now 
for  the  far  larger  number  of  boys  in  the 
greater  school. 

She  told  them  what  he  and  she  had  always 
felt — that  the  world  here  is  only  the  lesser 
room  which  opens  into  God's  greater  rooms 
beyond;  and  that  Death  is  no  veiled  terror, 
but  God's  messenger,  beautiful  and  benignant, 
who  comes  to  open  the  doors  of  Life  for  the 
homeward  turning  soul. 

She  tried  to  make  them  feel  what  she  be- 
lieved for  them — that  when  the  master  whom 
they  had  loved  was  sitting  in  that  school- 
room at  his  desk,  and  looking  into  their  faces, 
he  could  not  know  what  was  going  on  in  their 
minds  and  hearts;  but  that  freed  from  the 
limitations  of  the  body,  he  knew  now,  and 
would  know.  And  as  she  plead  that  they 
should  work  and  live  henceforth,  and  "play 
the  game  "  as  with  the  challenge  of  his  eyes 
upon  them,  she  told  this  story,  which  years 
before  a  minister  had  related  at  The  Hill. 

An  Oxford  man  who  was  famous  as  a 
cricketer,  just  before  the  great  final  match  be- 


360      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

tween  his  own  university  and  Cambridge,  was 
summoned  home  by  the  sudden  death  of  his 
father.  He  returned  the  very  day  of  the 
match,  and  by  his  brilliant,  almost  inspired, 
playing,  won  the  game  for  his  university. 
One  of  the  professors  complimented  him  on 
what  he  had  done  in  the  face  of  his  great  be- 
reavement. He  quietly  and  modestly  ex- 
plained to  him  the  reason  why  he  had  re- 
turned to  play  in  the  match,  and  the  real 
source  of  his  brilliant  playing.  His  father  had 
always  been  more  interested  in  cricket  than 
anyone  in  the  world,  but  was  totally  blind 
and  had  never  seen  him  play  a  game.  "  To- 
day," he  said,  "  I  know  for  the  first  time  in 
his  life  he  has  seen  me  play,  and  so  I  played 
the  game  for  him." 

Then  she  quoted  to  them  the  "  Christus 
Consolator,"  which  she  and  he  had  loved  so 
long: 

"  Beside  the  dead  I  knelt  in  prayer, 

And  felt  a  presence  as  I  prayed; 
Lo!    It  was  Jesus  standing  there, — 

He  smiled,  '  Be  not  afraid ! ' 
•  ••••••• 

"  Dear  Lord,  how  shall  we  know  that  they 

Still  walk  unseen  with  us  and  Thee, 
Nor  sleep,  nor  wander  far  away? 
He  smiled—'  Abide  in  Me ! '  " 

Back  from  the  hushed  schoolroom,  into  the 
presence  of  her  dead  she  went  again,  and  for 


FINAL  ACHIEVEMENTS  361 

nearly  four  hundred  boys,  the  thrilling  won- 
der of  a  mightier  Life  shone  for  that  great 
moment  real. 

It  had  come  true,  what  John  Meigs  had 
written  four  months  before — the  end  was  only 
"  a  beginning  of  diviner  things." 


CHAPTER  X 
VICTORY 

The  Appeal  Which  Determined  the  Place  of  His  Burial — 

The  Power  of  an  Immortal  Faith — Home-Coming  of  the  Old 

Boys— Services  in  the   Chapel— What  John   Meigs'   Life   Had 
Meant. 

OVER  The  Hill  a  kind  of  exalted  quiet 
brooded,  and  a  wonder  and  a  mystery 
like  the  first  wakening  of  the  earth 
when  a  summer's  morning  dawns.  John 
Meigs'  faith  in  Life  was  triumphing  in  the 
school  where  he  had  died. 

Many  who  had  loved  him  came  to  The  Hill 
in  the  swift  impulse  of  sympathy  and  comfort. 
They  entered  there  into  an  experience  trans- 
figuring and  new. 

Dr.  and  Mrs.  Raymond,  whose  lives  had 
been  so  intertwined  with  John  Meigs'  own, 
were  on  the  sea,  returning  from  Europe. 
Their  daughter  came,  and  thus  she  wrote  to 
her  father  and  mother  of  her  meeting  with 
"Mrs.  John": 

"  She  came  to  us  just  as  we  reached  the 
door,  in  that  swift  *  claiming '  way  she  has, 
and  took  us  two  alone  up  to  her  bedroom, 
where  on  the  couch  at  the  foot  of  the  bed, 

36a 


VICTORY  363 

the  dear  Professor  lay  asleep,  looking,  with 
his  great  broad  shoulders  in  the  white  night- 
gown, and  one  hand  holding  a  cluster  of  pan- 
sies,  like  a  mighty  angel  resting  between 
errands.  Strength,  serenity  and  dignity  were 
in  the  uttermost  corners  of  the  room,  because 
of  him.  I  was  never  more  intensely  aware 
of  all  the  '  meanings '  that  Mrs.  John  had 
accumulated  in  that  beloved  room  of  theirs 
than  in  those  few  minutes  that  we  three  stood 
together  with  our  arms  entwined,  while  Mrs. 
John  talked  with  such  simplicity,  and  all  the 
little  mottoes  stood  round  listening  in  wonder 
and  saying  to  themselves,  '  This  must  be  what 
we  mean ! '  I  spoke  to  Mrs.  John  in  that  quiet 
time  of  the  deep  impression  her  little  talk 
had  made  on  the  boys,  and  she  said,  '  I'm 
glad.  I  was  afraid  the  boys  would  think  of 
me  just  now  as  being  far  away  and  not  to 
be  approached  in  my  bereavement;  and  I 
thought  and  thought  what  would  be  the  best 
way  to  make  them  feel  me  near  and  close  to 
them  all.  And  as  I  sat  beside  John's  couch, 
I  said  out  loud,  t  Dear,  do  you  want  me  to 
talk  to  the  boys?  Do  you  think  I'd  better?' 
and  it  was  almost  as  if  he  said  in  words, 
'  Yes,  I  do/  " 

Meanwhile,  as  the  body  of  the  great  head- 
master lay  in  the  quiet  room,  up  above  the 
tree-tops  of  The  Hill,  there  was  brought  to 
"Mrs.  John"  this  note: 

"As  Stanton  said,  when  he  closed  the  eyes 
of  Lincoln,  '  Now  he  belongs  to  the  ages,'  so 


364      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

in  regard  to  Professor,  there  are,  I  am  sure, 
some  who  believe  that  now  he  belongs  to  the 
school. 

"  In  the  chapel  porch,  on  the  right  of  the 
entrance,  with  an  exposure  to  the  east,  and 
an  outlook  upon  all  the  larger  buildings,  is  a 
cloistered  spot  where  I  wish  he  might  lie. 
There,  just  a  little  to  the  Sixth's  right,  be- 
yond the  wall,  he  would  still  be  their  guide 
and  counselor.  There,  as  the  boys  passed  in 
to  service,  he  would  still  lead  them  to  the 
Truth,  and  there  at  his  side,  at  the  opening  of 
many  a  schoolboy's  life,  would  be  transmitted, 
from  father  to  son,  the  ideals  which  he 
praised,  and  the  school  traditions,  to  estab- 
lish which  he  gave  so  much. 

"  It  is  late.    Doubtless  I  intrude,  and  there 
are  certain  objections,  but  I  am, 
"  Yours  truly, 

"R.  H.  J. 

"  P.  S. — Matthew  Arnold,  in  his  inspiring 
'  Rugby  Chapel/  adds  his  silent  plea  that  even 
in  what  we  call  death,  the  school  may  not 
lose  its  leader.  Some  of  us  need  him  near. 
The  school  will  rally  about  his  grave,  as  he 
rallied  the  school  about  himself.  (My  per- 
sonal debt  to  him  and  to  the  school  may  not 
be  relevant,  but  life  for  me  has  begun  again 
here.)  It  is  for  the  boys  of  twenty  years 
hence,  as  well  as  for  these  men  of  to-morrow, 
that  I  write." 


That     request     prevailed.       It     had     been 
planned  to  lay  him  by  the  side  of  his  two 


VICTORY  365 

children;  but  his  grave  was  made  instead  in 
the  chapel  cloister  floor. 

On  Friday  night  there  was  a  service  in  the 
chapel  for  the  boys,  conducted  by  the  Rev. 
J.  Timothy  Stone.  This  was  held  for  them 
that  evening  because  there  would  not  be  room 
at  the  service  the  next  day,  when  the  Alumni 
gathered. 

Then  on  Saturday,  the  nth  of  November, 
from  far  and  wide  the  sons  of  The  Hill  came 
home.  The  world  said  John  Meigs  was  dead. 
On  The  Hill,  it  seemed  to  them  never  had 
his  spirit  been  so  radiantly  alive.  There  was 
no  crepe,  nor  any  badge  of  mourning.  She 
who  had  been  as  himself  and  with  himself 
had  made  the  school,  went  to  her  place  in  the 
chapel  with  unveiled  face,  and  in  the  white 
dress  she  had  worn  when  he  was  by  her  side — 
beautiful  in  the  peace  of  a  transfigured  soul. 
They  sang — that  great  congregation  of  boys 
and  men  and  women — no  hymns  of  sad  mor- 
tality. "  For  All  Thy  Saints,"  "  Emmanuel's 
Land,"  "Ten  Thousand  Times  Ten  Thou- 
sand" and  "Forward  Be  Our  Watchword" 
— they  sang  instead,  and  the  great  volume  of 
their  voices  rolled  through  the  chapel  arches 
where  his  voice  so  many  times  had  sung 
before. 

And  when  in  the  evening  of  that  still,  au- 
tumn day,  boys  and  men  turned  to  go  their 


366      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

different  ways,  they  knew  that  they  had  seen 
in  one  supreme  example  the  victory  of  that 
Christian  faith  which  overcometh  death  and 
time. 

From  every  quarter  letters  poured  in,  filled 
with  the  tributes  of  the  love  of  many  hearts. 
And  greatly  true  were  some  of  the  things 
they  spoke. 

One  said: 

"  It  is  of  such  as  he,  that  Bunyan  wrote 
that  *  the  trumpets  were  sounding  on  the  other 
side/  even  before  his  feet  touched  the  wash 
of  the  waves  of  the  river." 

From  far-away  Roberts  College,  in  Constan- 
tinople, came  this  word  of  the  president,  Dr. 
Gates : 

"  Last  night  we  prayed  for  you,  and  this 
morning  I  spoke  to  our  boys  in  the  college 
of  Dr.  Meigs  and  his  work,  and  the  way  in 
which  he  and  you  are  meeting  death.  .  .  ., 
There  is  nothing  sad  in  such  a  death.  It  is 
the  triumph  of  him  that  overcometh,  it  is  the 
entrance  of  one  who  has  been  faithful  upon 
a  larger  sphere  of  service,  it  is  the  home-com- 
ing of  one  who  has  traveled  far." 

Wrote  Jacob  Riis: 

"  In  all  the  sense  of  personal  grief  and  loss, 
I  feel  like  crying  out  in  the  words  on  the 


VICTORY  367 

stone  at  Quebec:  'Here  lies  Wolfe,  victori- 
ous ! '  Such  souls  do  not  die !  They  go  out 
of  our  mortal  sight  for  a  little  while,  but  God 
keeps  them  with  Him  for  evermore." 

And  from  one  other  friend  come  these 
quoted  lines  of  Le  Gallienne's  ode  to  Robert 
Louis  Stevenson: 

"  Not  while  a  boy  still  whistles  on  the  earth, 
Not  while  a  single  human  heart  beats  true, 
Not  while  Love  lasts,  and  Honor,  and  the  Brave 
Has  earth  a  grave, 
O  well-beloved,  for  you !  " 

So  in  the  quiet  cloister  of  the  chapel  his 
body  lies;  but  over  The  Hill  it  is  as  though 
his  spirit  brooded  still.  And  where,  on  many 
paths,  they  walk  who  have  felt  his  touch,  in 
truth,  in  manliness,  in  self-forgetting  service, 
and  in  the  power  of  that  high  consecration 
which  lifts  its  eyes  to  God, — there  his  spirit 
goes  on  far  and  living  ways  beyond  the 
school. 


In  the  "  Hill  School  Record,"  for  December, 
1911,  first  were  published  these  noble  lines, 
by  Mr.  Arthur  Judson. 

THE  MASTER 

A  massive  man,  of  iron  frame,  was  he — 
Our  master — and  the  breadth  and  bulk  of  him, 
Towering  up  to  the  great  brow  and  head, 
Fit  temple  was  for  the  indwelling  force 
Of  mind  and  soul  and  will.    So  clean  and  pure 
He  kept  that  temple,  on  whose  altar  high 
Burned  the  eternal  fire,  the  light  divine ! 

Never  was  quenched  that  spirit's  steady  flame ; 
Nor  was  it  aught  diminished,  though  it  fed 
So  many  failing  lamps  that  now  burn  bright 
In  other  fanes. 

Master  of  men  he  was, 
And  fit  to  be  one  of  Earth's  captains — they 
Who  lead  the  way  where  wreaths  of  oak  or  bay 
Or  olive  wait  them  at  the  goal — Not  he ! 
All  this  he  left,  and  rather  chose  to  serve 
The  lonely  heart  of  boyhood.    Well  he  knew 
Its  foes  and  weakness,  and  how  small  the  meed 
Of  praise  or  wealth  or  power  the  world  bestows 
On  those  who  save  her  children.    Well  for  us 
'He  chose ! 

Who  knew,  better  than  he,  how  much 
A  man's  strength  means  to  a  boy?    Our  dreams 
369 


370      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

Were  all  of  manhood,  of  its  fancied  joys, 

Its  power  and  freedom  from  the  petty  round 

Of  childish  tasks  unwillingly  endured. 

Little  we  knew  of  the  hard  road  that  lay 

Before  us — of  the  rocky  wastes  where  we 

Must  eat  our  bitter  herbs  and  drink  our  tears, 

Must  sit  apart  and  mourn  the  visioned  years 

Of  some  unrealized  life !    But  God  is  good 

And  works  beyond  our  ken — the  discipline 

That  shaped  us  for  that  hour,  gave  bone  and  brawn, 

Begot  the  will  to  live,  strength  to  endure 

And  conquer  in  the  end — by  God's  good  grace 

'Twas  given  us  through  those  impatient  years. 

And  other  things  we  learned — not  to  be  told; 
For  of  that  inner  life  the  Spirit  knows, 
And  He  alone  can  speak.    But  memories 
There  are  that  daily  spring  beside  the  road 
We  travel,  blossoming  as  from  the  seeds 
Of  deathless  youth  dropped  in  our  stony  soil 
By  Heaven's  ungrudging  winds : — 

that  quiet  hour 

By  night,  when  some  sweet  thought  of  home 
Gave  us  new  heart;  that  first  awakening 
Within  us  of  the  sense  of  mastery; 
Those  days  of  spring  when  incense,  from  the  fields 
Arising,  drifted  from  the  winds  afar, 
Seeking  our  studious  chamber,  to  invite 
Our  thoughts.  Again  how  near  they  seem,  how  dear ! 
Those  boyish  friendships,  voices,  grip  of  hands, 
A  smile,  a  word — yet  all  of  life  was  there ; 
For  thus  the  spirit,  proud  and  shy,  reveals 
That  which  the  tongue  can  ne'er  consent  to  tell. 

How  like  an  endless  string  of  priceless  pearls 
Those  days,  years,  moments,— till  the  last  of  all, 


THE  MASTER  371 

When  with  uncovered  head  we  said  farewell 

To  them  and  to  the  Master  of  The  Hill. 

For  his  it  was — that  city  beautiful ; 

His  the  strong  hand  that  held  it  in  its  seat ; 

His  was  the  master-mind  that  planned  its  walls 

And  built  its  towers ;  until  its  every  stone 

And  ivy  leaf  and  cloister  breathes  of  him. 

His  tread  yet  echoes  through  our  halls ;  his  voice — 

That  marvelous  voice — is  ringing  in  our  ears. 

How  it  could  pierce  the  flimsy,  futile  mask 

Of  pride  or  falsehood  and  confound  the  guilty  soul ! 

Or,  tender  as  a  woman's,  win  the  heart 

Forth  from  our  very  bosoms  till  we  stood 

Ready  to  dare  a  soldier's  part  to  play. 

Often  we  counted  him  unjust  and  harsh, 

Judging  in  youthful  haste,  all  unaware 

That  while  we  slept  he  pleaded  with  his  Christ 

For  us  and  for  himself — that  he  might  have 
The  wisdom  to  decide,  the  will  to  do 
That  which  his  heart  would  not — that  we  might  be 
Strong  men  and  true,  brave,  loyal,  honest,  pure. 

Had  he  his  faults  ?    Well,  he  was  just  a  man — 
And  therefore  did  we  love  him — a  great  man 
In  all  he  did;  and  mightily  he  warred 
Against  the  flesh.    He  ever  scorned  to  give 
Ground  in  the  fight.    His  noble  spirit  rose 
Triumphant  over  age  and  grief  and  pain. 
He  toiled  unto  the  end  and  finished  all. 
Death  found  him  at  his  post,  his  work  was  done. 
Right  gladly  did  he  hear  the  trumpet  call 
That  rang  victorious  o'er  a  well-fought  field. 
He  stripped  him  of  his  arms,  he  sheathed  his  sword 
He  laid  the  faithful,  weary  body  down 
To  sleep.    Ah !  who  would  grudge  him  of  his  rest ! 


372      THE  MASTER  OF  THE  HILL 

But  O  if  I  might  see  again  his  smile 
So  tender,  hear  his  voice,  or  meet  again 
Those  eyes  that  looked  so  deep  and  saw  so  far! 
Then  might  I — 

Nay,  the  dawn  is  drawing  nigh 
And  we  must  raise  our  standard  with  the  sun. 
Buckle  each  strap,  close  up  the  ranks  and  on, 
On  with  our  colors  to  another  war. 
Thus  shall  our  city  stand,  and  men  shall  say 
In  years  unborn,  on  many  a  distant  field : 
"  The  children  of  The  Hill  have  passed  this  way." 


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